


Pre-paid

by 2Atoms



Series: Pre-Paid [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Body confidence problems even though we all love trixie, F/F, Fluff, We broke up but this holiday was already paid for, exes to girlfriends, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 05:05:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/2Atoms
Summary: We broke up, and I thought you forgot about this pre-paid holiday. Except now you're at my door an hour before we're meant to leave, and I don't want to refund you.





	1. The Premise

When she broke up with Katya, Trixie had sobbed for days. She was crying before Katya even left, watching her potter around the Trixie’s apartment to find the various knick-knacks and makeup products and clothes that were carelessly, unthinkingly intermingled with Trixie’s.

Trixie found Katya’s things for weeks after: panties in her dirty laundry; handwritten notes on the desk; Katya’s sketching pencils and phone charger; her handprints on the window; and every time she cleaned, Trixie would find long blonde hairs with dark roots that were distinctly _hers_.

She knew it was creepy, to keep her ex-girlfriend’s unwashed underwear, her long-finished tube of toothpaste, her hairbrush. There was no way she could call Katya, even though her number was still number one in Trixie’s contacts, cute emojis still intact. Instead, she kept everything in a box, in the bottom of her wardrobe. On especially bad days she’d go through it, just to torture herself. She’d turn each item over in her hands, think of Katya’s touch on them, and inevitably gaze into the back of her crappy IKEA wardrobe for hours as memories of those hands haunted her. And the hair that hairbrush had been roughly dragged through. The pearly-white teeth that Katya had used that tube of toothpaste on. The woman who’d changed her life and herself so much that Trixie never wanted to go back. Even after the dozenth wasted afternoon, Trixie would carefully put everything back, slide it back beside the painful pumps that she couldn’t quite be bothered to wear these days.

Trixie kept telling herself convinced she’d give everything back eventually, even though Katya definitely didn’t miss any of it.

Katya would have texted if she wanted anything back.

Instead, Trixie tried to pretend nothing was wrong. She’d only told her closest friends about the breakup. Everyone else she didn’t see often enough to tell, didn’t feel like divulging the details of her recently failed relationship. She couldn’t face the finality of telling her work-friends, her emotionally-distant family, her hairdresser. So, Trixie lied, waved off questions about Katya without hesitation, and people bought it. Deep down, she wanted to be grilled about it, to have her postman, her landlord, her dentist, confront her about the lie. No one ever did, though. They just accepted Trixie’s bullshit without a second thought. It was too final, to actually tell everyone. Trixie herself had ended things, felt like they’d grown apart for too long to keep going, but it had still hurt to have Katya so robotically accept the break up. For the first few weeks, Trixie had kept her day-clothes on a little longer, waiting for that tentative knock on the door as Katya showed up to fight or fuck or talk or beg or whatever. She was the only woman Trixie had ever loved so thoroughly and devastatingly, and she’d walked out with a simple, emotionless goodbye.

Except now that very same woman was standing outside her door, suitcase in hand and foot tapping impatiently. Through the peephole in her door, Katya looked like she had every right to be there, as though Trixie hadn’t broken her own heart by letting her go. Trixie knew she couldn’t hesitate before she swung the door open, or she’d never do it.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

She didn’t really feel angry, she didn’t really have the right to. It had been two months, though. With zero contact. And now Katya was in her building with a suitcase just hours before the holiday that Trixie had been dreading and excited for in equal parts.

“We’ve got a holiday booked.”

Katya was totally nonchalant, and Trixie was gobsmacked. This was unbelievable.

“Katya! We’ve been broken up for two months! We’re not _going on holiday together!”_

No reaction from Katya. She shuffles closer to the doorway, moving her suitcase by her side.

“Are you not going?” Katya asked, cocking her head. She had that stupid innocent face that she’d tease Trixie with to diffuse a fight, except now it was real.

Trixie threw her hands up, taking a deep breath. It was eight am, and she’d been planning to leave in an hour. This was far too early for her to think reasonably; the air was cold and the sun was still casting long shadows in the corridor outside. She cautiously moved aside to let Katya into the apartment, shivering at the combination of cold and familiarity. Katya brushed past her, with a taller posture and less bounce in her step than Trixie remembered.

Katya made herself at home, taking one of the mismatched seats at Trixie’s kitchen table. Trixie closed the door gently, getting her cup of coffee before settling in the other chair. Katya was on her phone, texting furiously and relaxing as if she was right at home. It infuriated Trixie. Katya always knew how to get on her nerves like no one else, for better or worse.

“Do you really think you can just invite yourself on this trip? With no prior warning?” Trixie challenged, snapping a bit to get Katya’s attention.

It worked. A bit. Katya looked up, face blank.

“I paid for half of it, I already have the time off work, and unless you’re planning to refund me, I’m coming.”

Trixie couldn’t refund her. Not at this short notice, and not without missing next month’s rent. Rock and a hard place, or something like that.

“Katya, please. I was really looking forward to this. I wanted to relax, have some time off. Can’t you just leave it?”

“I was looking forward to this too, Trixie. I’m not about to miss my holiday. Plus, _you_ broke up with _me._ And it’s only a week.”

Unbelievable. Trixie changed tact.

“Do you really want to come? Like, we only booked one room. Plus, it’s a super long drive. You could just have a week off at home.”

She shrugged, trying to sound unaffected. Like her expensive holiday wasn’t about to become a living nightmare.

“Come off it, Trix. Let’s just go. You’re not changing my mind, unless you wanna pay me back.”

Trixie groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes just because she knows Katya hates it.

“Fine. Let me just get the rest of my stuff.”

Trixie took her time getting the last of her things. She threw random maybe-necessary things in her bag, gazing longingly at the novels and bath bombs she’d gathered for the week before she closed it. She used the bathroom, touching up her deodorant and face powder, and took one last deep breath, staring herself down in the mirror.

She could do this. She was the one who ended it with Katya. She had no reason to be nervous. No right to be upset. None at all. It was only 7 hours in the car with her ex-girlfriend. The woman she thought she’d grow old with, spend every Christmas with, sleep next to every night.

Easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a taster! There's almost another chapter written, but I don't have the plot nailed down yet: I wanted some input from readers!
> 
> I'm thinking something angsty? Some element of danger at the resort? What do you guys think?  
> Any plot/character/scene suggestions? Anything you haven't seen in a trixya fic yet that you want? Song recs?
> 
> Please please comment anything you've got! :)


	2. "This Isn't Gonna Work"

A seven-hour drive with her ex-girlfriend was not how Trixie had envisioned her holiday starting. She’d imagined sandy beaches and a scenic seaside drive up the sunny California coastline, reading on the hotel room balcony, and eating whatever the hell she wanted.

Instead, Katya was playing with her car radio, shuffling in the passenger seat, whipping her head around to stare at dogs and kids in stupid outfits and wildlife on the sidewalk. Every time she got too distracting, Trixie snapped at her or batted her hands away from the centre console. But mostly she ignored Katya.

It was the one thing the older woman couldn’t stand. She hated when her kookiness and mile-a-minute talk was being completely disregarded. It was only a couple of hours before Katya was shuffling her legs, attempting some kind of complex yoga pose around her seat-belt, making gross _crack_ noises with every joint in her body. Trixie knew what she was about to say before the words left her mouth, and resisted the urge to mouth along mockingly.

“Trix, can we stop? I gotta piss.”

“Don’t call me Trix. The next services are a couple miles away. We’ll stop there.”

Katya hummed, barely acknowledging Trixie’s reply as she turned to stare back out the window again. Trixie silently mourned her quiet, scenic, alone-time drive. She’d wanted gorgeous sunsets, clear highways, and blaringly loud music. Not constant annoyances and breaks. It was like travelling with a fucking child.

*

They stopped three times before reaching the hotel, with Trixie begging Katya not to drink any more coffee at coffee shops all up the California coastline. Katya wasn’t even trying to hide how excited she was, blabbering on and on about all the normal life she just “had to escape.”

Trixie couldn’t stand to listen to her. She knew the feeling, exactly how exhausted and world-weary she’d been, running herself into the ground with work in the weeks preceding her holiday, desperate to have enough money to take the time off and enjoy herself. But now it had been ruined, by the beautiful, stupid, hyper, tone-deaf ex-girlfriend singing along to the radio beside her.

Katya’s caffeine crash hit her about twenty minutes before Trixie made the turning for the resort, pulling her back to earth like amplified gravity, pinning her butt to the seat and her feet to the ground, forehead lolling against the window. The quiet was welcome, but it also made Trixie uneasy, made her overthink the next words Katya would say. The lights of the hotel were almost unwelcome, the way they signified the beginning of her nightmare week, trying to navigate around Katya’s wants and needs alongside Trixie’s own awkwardness and indecision. As the car ground to a halt, a little quicker than Trixie intended, Katya jolted forward, barely taking a second to blink before she grinned and bounced out of the car, leaving Trixie behind to try and brace herself for the coming chaos.

 Katya dragged both their suitcases out of the by herself trunk, leaving it open as she struggled across the parking lot with them. Trixie trudged reluctantly after her, picking up her purse and closing the trunk door with a thud. It took more effort than it should’ve to get up the front steps, and once she was there Trixie wished she hadn’t bothered. Katya was in deep conversation with the woman at the check-in desk, no doubt chatting her up and generally being a ray of fucking sunshine to this complete stranger. Trixie caught the end of the conversation, hearing the chipper tone that Katya had somehow mustered during her sprint to the foyer.

“It’s in the name Mattel.” Katya informed the receptionist, peering over the counter curiously.

They’d always booked stuff in Trixie’s name. It was less hassle to try and spell, and Katya tried to avoid the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Russian?’ conversation, where possible. The receptionist searched for a moment, nails clicking on the keyboard and then on the countertop next to it.

“Oh, yep. Here it is! Can I see some I.D.?”

Trixie shuffled forwards, rummaging for her driver’s license. She contemplated briefly on what would happen if she said she’d forgotten it. Would they have to turn around? Would Katya just get her own room, let Trixie come back alone the next day? She didn’t have the energy to lie, though. Katya would see right through her.

She begrudgingly slapped it down on the counter, and the receptionist barely glanced at the card before wandering off to fetch their keys. On her return, Katya seemed to have infinite questions about the hotel. The receptionist indulged her, handing over leaflet after leaflet which Katya eagerly pored over. Trixie’s legs hurt from driving, and she was sick of the bright lobby lights. And her unwanted roommate was still asking stupid questions, bouncing on her heels.

“How many beds are there?” Trixie butted in, getting between Katya and the receptionist.

“… Just one?” She answered, looking between the two of them curiously.

“Okay great, thanks.” Katya interjected.

Trixie huffed, making the receptionist appear even more concerned. After an uncomfortable pause, Katya clapped her hands loudly, scooped up the key cards and led Trixie away with an unsolicited hand on her lower back. It made Trixie livid, and she was sure Katya knew that, but she didn’t want to say anything in front of the already-freaked-out employee. 

As they waited for the elevator, Trixie couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hey, what the fuck was that?” she hissed, and the lift car arrived.

“It’s weird to ask for another bed!” Katya insisted, refusing to let Trixie help with the bags, grunting from the weight of Trixie’s oversized suitcase. Trixie walked ahead, letting her struggle.

*

The hotel room was nice. Like, so nice. And there was definitely only one bed, but it was huge, taking up almost all of the room. So maybe Trixie could cope. Katya let her claim her own side of the mattress, point out where she wanted Katya to put her suitcase and peer out of the sliding doors into the darkness outside. There was a balcony for Katya to smoke, she noted, surprised that Katya wasn’t already itching to head out there. The view will be gorgeous when its light, if the photographs of this room are to be believed. Overlooking the sea, too sheltered and high up for anyone to peer in.

Trixie tries not to think too hard on what this would be like if they were still together, still close emotionally and on the same page in their relationship. Maybe they would have already been in bed together, or pressed up against the window or exploring what kind of bathtub they have. It’s not like that, though. Their relationship. It’s is over and they’re only here because they wouldn’t be able to get a refund. Fuck it. Trixie awkwardly slunk to the bathroom, purposely avoiding Katya’s glances. As she sat down, Trixie held in a groan at the absence of a door-lock. She tried to avoid thinking about the next few days, one foot awkwardly held towards the dividing bathroom door.

*

They couldn’t spend the next week like this. Sitting on uncomfortable chairs in the hotel room, the bed separating them like a No Man’s Land, trying to pretend the other person doesn’t exist. If Trixie was alone, she’d be enjoying a bath. Or masturbating. Maybe masturbating in the bath. Maybe she’d be in the hotel bar, trying to pull a nice woman, she’d be able to invite her back to this gorgeous room, throw away all her feelings for Katya with a magical night. She could even be sans-makeup, pigging out on the packs of cookies and chocolate buried in her bag, enjoying a Netflix show with no observers, locked away from the pressures of the outside world by the heavy hotel room door. Instead, she was worried if she sat with a double chin, frequently checking there wasn’t a frown on her face, or that she wasn’t wearing visibly ill-fitting clothes. She was oddly self-aware around Katya, considering how well they’d once known each other.

It was hard to get back to that place, the one where she knew Katya had found her attractive and love-worthy no matter what. Because they weren’t there anymore. Trixie couldn’t help wonder how her image had warped in Katya’s mind since they’d broken up. Well. Since she’d broken up with Katya. Had Trixie grown horns? Turned into the monster she saw in herself sometimes?

She couldn’t focus on her phone. Instead, she found herself focusing on whether she thought Katya still found her attractive. Whether the spell of lust had worn off. They’d worked together to get Trixie over her anxieties about her body, and it’d stuck for the most part, but being around Katya again seemed to make her confidence crumble a little. Not a lot, just enough to make her uneasy. She hadn’t gotten laid since they broke up. She wished she could blame Katya, but it was Trixie’s own fault. They couldn’t even talk about it. Katya wouldn’t be in the same position. She would have undoubtedly boomerang-ed back to an old flame, or found herself a Tindr date with no difficulty in the slightest. Wouldn’t she?

Fuck this. Trixie had to get out of here. Away from her ex and towards her next cocktail. 

“I’m headed to the bar.”

There was a pause, and Trixie prayed to God for a noncommittal grunt. No such luck.

“Cool, let me grab my wallet.”

*

Despite Trixie’s best attempts to convince her otherwise, Katya bounced alongside her as Trixie marched to the elevator. Like a dumb, obedient Labrador puppy.

There were only a dozen people dotted around the hotel bar. Various tanned L.A. locals and a few tourists. The bar stools were completely empty, and Trixie internally bemoaned that Katya would have to sit next to her. She hoisted herself up onto a chair, with a smile to the buff, butch bartender. Tattoos peaked out from under her crisp white shirt, and Trixie tried not to stare as she approached, still somehow aware of the clattering of Katya trying to jump onto a seat next to her. They were pretty tall chairs, to be fair.

“What can I getcha?”

“Uh… something alcoholic and sugary?” Trixie tried, smiling sweetly over the bar at her. The woman giggled, nodding as she looked over the bottles of spirits behind her. She turned away, already busy mixing Trixie a drink and ringing it up.

Katya coughed, and she turned back hesitantly.

“Oh, uh, miss?”

“Pint of coke, please.” Katya smiled, a little too wide for Trixie to believe.

Trixie gazed around the room, taking stock of the other guests and hypothetically deciding who she’d go and join, if only Katya wasn’t with her. Most of them were in couples, though. Maybe some of them would be vying for a threesome? Not that it mattered now. When Trixie turned back, there was a drink in front of each of them, and Katya had already handed over her card to pay. The bartender strolled off the with a wink to Trixie, Doc Martens clunking against the sticky bar floor.

She nodded to Katya in thanks, then downed the drink a little too fast, gasping for air as she finished it. Despite the other waiting customers, the bartender rushed back over. There was another fruity, blue drink in front of Trixie before she could even open her mouth.

“Cheers.”

As Trixie searched for her bank card, the bartender waved her off with a wink. Katya uncrossed and re-crossed her legs next to Trixie, slightly toppling the tall stool before slamming her hands down for grip. Behind the bar, Trixie heard the bartender try not to giggle, and Trixie turned her head away to hide her smile from Katya.

Once the bartender walked off, Katya settled down again and gave Trixie a pointed look, which she carefully ignored. The silence continued for as long as Trixie refused to make eye contact with Katya, focusing on her drink and the bar and the other customers around her. Was it too late to drive back to L.A.?

*

The free drinks kept coming, for Trixie at least. Katya paid for a few, competing with the bartender and another flirtatious customer. Katya started her second Coke when Trixie tried her fifth brightly-coloured cocktail. The bartender was incredibly attentive, sneaking Trixie a free shot whenever her colleague was looking away. As the bar cleared out, she hung around Trixie and Katya a lot more, leaning against the register and starting to cash up. She was called Zoe, they learnt.

“You working tomorrow?” Trixie slurred out, lying forward to rest her chin on her arms, staring between the bar taps at Zoe. She smiled, and Trixie appreciated the way her nude lipstick was rubbing off.

“Yep. Most nights. I do the pool bar sometimes, too.”

Trixie’s face lit up, and in the mirrors behind the bar, she could see Katya roll her eyes.

“That’s so fun! Do you have to swim?”

Jesus, Trixie was drunk. The bartender didn’t seem to mind, though. She laughed again, tilting her head down to see Trixie’s better.

“Nah, behind the bar is dry. You’ll have to swim up to it, though.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Yeah?” she smiled, glancing at Katya.

“Yeah! We’ll come tomorrow, won’t we Kat?”

“Sure, Trix.”

Apparently, Zoe finally noticed the awkward energy between them, the way Katya had a hand hovering near Trixie’s back.

“I’m, uh, actually not there tomorrow. The day after I am, though.”

She went to leave, then thought twice, turning back to speak mainly to Katya for the first time.

“Are you guys together? Like, dating?”

Katya wasn’t sure what to say, so she let Trixie handle it. A very drunk Trixie.

“We were. Not anymore though… ”

She held up her empty glass, as a cheers to no one in particular, not exactly matching her demeanour. She didn’t seem to notice it was empty until the glass was in her mouth, tipped right back.

“Can I get another one of those?” she whined, looking up at Zoe with some attempt at puppy-dog eyes.

“Sure, hun.”

She took the glass and set to refilling it, and once she’d turned away, Katya finally settled her hand on Trixie’s upper back.

“Are you sure? You’ve had quite a lot, Trix.”

“Don’t call me Trix,” she mumbled, playing with her optimistically-short nails. The fresh polish was chipping off them already.

“I’m serious, Trixie. You’ll be hungover tomorrow.” Katya warned, putting her phone face-down and reaching out to get the other woman’s attention. She was promptly ignored, and the bartender held a card reader out to Trixie to pay. She didn’t seem to be in any state to find her bank card, so Katya covered it with a huff.

“Can I get a couple of waters too?” she asked, watching Trixie. Katya was a little concerned at the rate she was getting through her sixth drink. Zoe smiled tightly.

“Sure.”

*

“Hey, c'mon, drink this and we’re going.”

Trixie groaned, seeking out the bartender for someone else to talk to. She didn’t want to go back to that silent hotel room with her unwanted roommate, to sit awkwardly again and freak out over sharing a bed.

“You can go without me. I ‘wanna stay.”

“No, Trixie. We’re going. You’ve had enough.”

“Stay! Have a drink with me!” she encouraged, reaching up a hand to signal for Zoe.

Katya sighed, shook her head, and told Trixie _no_. For once.

“Why are you even here, then? Just to make me miserable?” Trixie accused.

She knew the effect her words would have, and she watched as Katya's face fell. Trixie didn’t know why she was relishing this so much. Why she was pushing Katya’s buttons, just to entertain herself and make Katya mad. Katya worked hard to be sober, had tried hard to stay clean since over a year before they’d gotten together. They’d been friends beforehand, and Trixie had watched as Katya got her shit together, poured so much of herself into the hard fucking work it took to stay present and sober. So why was Trixie being such a bitch?

Maybe she just wanted Katya to be hurting like she was.

She finally felt bad, and relinquished. Trixie sipped at her glass of tap water slowly, refusing to meet Katya’s eye. It was quiet in the bar now, only the hum of the fridges and the beer pumps for noise. They were the only two people left, aside from one young couple necking in the corner. Fortunately, they finally found a neutral excuse to leave.

“It’s almost closing up time,” Zoe told them, with a pointed look towards Trixie. Katya got the hint, grateful for the excuse to get Trixie away from the bar. Trixie didn’t argue as Katya got her to her feet, holding her up as she clambered off the tall chair.

*

Back at the room, it wasn’t as awkward as Trixie had expected. Mostly because she was really drunk. She stumbled into the bathroom to change, taking her sweet time sloppily washing her face, then playing with her skin and hair in the mirror.

“Trixie?”

“Mhm…” she called back, debating whether she needed to pee.

“You coming to bed?”

_Oh, fuck._

“Yeahhh….”

She did need to pee.

*

After a couple more encouragements from Katya, Trixie finally opened the door to head back to bed. If she was more sober, she’d be cringing at the cutesy, pink pyjamas she’d packed. But her only other options were lingerie sets, bought by Katya when she was working so hard to bolster Trixie’s body confidence. She’d have to wear them eventually, but not right now. Of course, Katya had shown up last minute, when they were already packed. When she was packing, Trixie had made the call that if she wore the underwear in northern California, alone, there was no possible way Katya would ever know how much she still treasured each set. She’d find out eventually, but Trixie kept the lid of her suitcase carefully closed, for now.

Katya, who had known full well she’d be sharing a room with Trixie, was wearing next to nothing. Just a tank top and panties, nipples visible through the fabric, that a drunken Trixie was trying desperately not to stare at. She was lying on the side of the bed that she’d usually taken in their bed back home, back when they were dating. It was a silent agreement, and Trixie slid into her usual side, resisting the urge to slide her hands around Katya’s waist and chest. Instead, Trixie forced herself to flip over and face away from her.

When the lights were off and they were both settled to sleep Katya spoke up, mouth dry and voice croaky from her evening cigarette.

“Why did we break up?”

Trixie didn’t know. Or rather, she didn’t want to know. She shrugged it off, gave some dogshit excuse. But the question circled around her head, refused to be washed down the drain even with the copious amounts of alcohol in her system. She wanted to say it was Katya’s parents. That it was because they don’t like her. Trixie wanted to blame their pity and their disapproval, how they knew Katya was too good for Trixie. Katya could’ve been an athlete. Or a dancer. Or a world-famous artist. She could’ve been anything.

Katya’s brilliant. Too brilliant. Like a flame, burning through ideas and conversations and new friends. Her mind is a mile-a-minute and she loves ferociously, in a way Trixie knows her childhood hasn’t left her with the emotional capacity for.

She was sure that’s what Katya’s parents thought. That they knew their daughter was too good for Trixie. That she challenged Trixie’s country-bumpkin mind too much. That they probably called Katya twice a week just to ask when she was going to find friends and a nice partner who can match her in mind and body and _soul_. That was why it was for the best that they broke up.

There were the fights, too. The ones that energised Katya, that she saw as playful banter whilst they exhausted Trixie. Debates over dinner about issue after issue that Katya would be so educated on, while Trixie relied on half-remembered TV interviews and her own opinions to fight her corner.

She could feel Katya shuffling in the bed behind her, moving the duvet, maybe to reach out and touch Trixie. And Trixie couldn’t stand it. She climbed out of the bed, cold foot brushing Katya’s leg as she moved away.

“This isn’t ‘gonna work.”

Trixie threw on a hotel dressing gown, which absolutely swamped her, and wrapped the fabric tightly around herself, taking a room key card from the sideboard.

With a flip of her hair and a failed-attempt to slam their fire door, Trixie marched back down to reception, determined to get another bed delivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited about this story! All your comments on the first chapter were so wonderful and helpful and positive, and I'm really happy that some of you want to be along for the ride!
> 
> I sat down with all your suggestions and have now got a plot! All your more suggestions, speculation, guesses, compliments, complaints would be wonderful! 
> 
> What's next for them? Is Trixie ever going to stop being a raging Leo? Questions you're welcome to ask!


	3. "You Should Talk to Her"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie finally confronts her own feelings, after much crying and a paddleboarding incident.

The next morning she's awoken by the clattering of something falling on the floor, with the swearing of Katya tripping over something, and the stomp of her feet against the floor. Fuck, it's all too loud. Thank god the heavy curtains are still closed, only letting through a slim perimeter of light. Trixie groans and rolls over, searching blindly for a pillow to slam over her head. She can’t find one, the spare pillows had ended up on Katya’s bed. Katya whispers an apology, grabbing her water bottle and headphones before clambering to the door.

“I’m headed to the gym, see you later.”

Katya’s voice is soft, and Trixie watches from under the pillow, sees her pause for a second before placing a second water bottle on Trixie’s bedside table. She leaves silently, staying just long enough to make sure the door didn’t slam. Trixie chugs the water gratefully before pulling the sheets over her head and slipping into another dreamless sleep.

*

Trixie has no idea what time it is was when she wakes up next, but she is still alone in the room. The hangover has waned a little, but it still hurt like a bitch. Still, she should get showered and dressed before Katya gets back, all sweaty and gross.

 With a throbbing head, Trixie tries to manoeuvre around the room, whining out loud at the realisation her suitcase was shoved under the bed, zipped closed and still ridiculously heavy. There is no space in the hotel room with both the huge king-sized bed and Katya’s folding bed. The hotel staff had warned her it wouldn’t fit in the room, but apparently drunk Trixie couldn’t take no for an answer, insisting on a second bed. And now there isn’t even a clear path to dash to the bathroom.

By now, Trixie understands how Katya hadn’t managed to leave without waking her up. And why she really shouldn’t have insisted on a second separate bed. It’s too late to go back now, even if she’d been drunk. They’ll just have to deal with it. The conversation of inviting Katya back into her bed was just too awkward.

She enjoys the alone time, putting on her makeup and drying her hair sat on Katya’s tiny folding bed, trying to be happy with her appearance in the mirror. She sits there a few minutes too long and forces herself to leave for breakfast before she wipes her face off and just goes back to bed.

*

A freshly-showered Katya joins her at a small table in the corner of the hotel dining room, a plate piled high with pastries and clutching a mug of coffee that Trixie expects to be heavily sweetened. Trixie’s just finishing off her own breakfast, picking through a fruit salad that’s a bit too sharp for her taste.

“Hey!” Katya greets, before shoving a torn-off chunk of croissant into her mouth, generally just making a huge mess. Trixie feels sorry for whoever has to clean the tables up later.

“Hey. What was the gym like?” she asked, feeling a bit sheepish for her behaviour over the last 24 hours. She was starting to get over her anger, the confusing feelings she still held towards Katya taking over instead.

“We’re meant to try to stand up paddle boarding later,” Katya reminds her, looking out the bay windows behind Trixie. “That should be fun!”

“Maybe for you! I’m ‘gonna suck at it.” Trixie whines, resisting the urge to steal a pastry off Katya’s plate. She didn’t need it.

“It’s just standing up, Trix!”

Trixie shoots her a glare for that, but Katya pretends not to notice, peering around the restaurant at other patrons instead.

*

So Trixie found herself on a paddleboard, with a full face of makeup and her favorite one-piece swimsuit. Obviously, Katya looks amazing, had hauled both of their boards into the water and been flirting with her lifeguard since they’d arrived on the beach. She was wearing a red bikini. It must have been new because Trixie had never seen the way it showed her hip bones, fitted her tightly and framed her breasts and décolletage perfectly.

Her bare skin already had a slight tan, and Trixie was sure it’d be golden by the end of their holiday, whilst she bemoaned her own freckles. She can already feel herself burning, despite the layers of sunscreen she’d slathered on. The sea reflects back the sun, and Katya’s white teeth are too. She’s smiling clearly, gazing around her and occasionally waving at Trixie excitedly. She stands on the floating board with no issues at all, showing her perfect balance and with no qualms about walking up and down the board, stretching and playing with the water in her paddle.  

Fuck. Has Katya always had abs?

Trixie worries about the sea creatures under them, despite the cold California water. It made her nervous and uncertain, and she was split between staring down at the murky blue and trying to pretend it wasn’t there. she hates what the water does to her hair, how it’ll be amplifying the sun damage to her face. Katya was moving closer, standing on one foot occasionally, squinting against the sun.

Katya wasn’t stopping, and Trixie feels the board wobble under her. She doesn’t have the balance or muscle tone Katya boasts, and her legs ache from the board, the sweat on her hands making it difficult to grip the paddle. Is Katya planning on pushing her into the sea? Fuck. No. She wasn’t going in there. She shouts out at Katya to stop, making the older woman laugh, showing off with a twirl of her paddle.

“I’m fucking serious, Katya. Don’t you fucking dare.” She warns, squinting and glaring to make it clear that she’s _not fucking joking_.

The panic takes over as Katya gets closer, and Trixie tries to move away, glancing down at the water beneath her, muscles already tensing in fear. They’re too far out. She hated it. She wants to go back into the shore. How deep is the water? What’s under her? Oh god, Katya was within touching distance.

Trixie couldn’t read her face. It was blank and a little concerned, but Trixie worries that’s setting her up. It wouldn’t be fucking funny to push Trixie in. But she worries Katya might think it’s funny.

“Trix, honey, calm down.”

Katya’s got a hand extended towards her, but it's not to push her. It’s a foot away, about to comfort Trixie if she’ll allow it. She does. Katya’s skin is so warm, it takes Trixie away from her panic, lets her focus on something other than the fear of the unknown that’s shaking her.

With calming words and occasional touches, Katya guides them both

As soon as she’s got both feet on solid ground, Trixie feels embarrassment wash over her, like the waves on the shore. Katya’s pulled both boards onto the sand, before rushing over to comfort Trixie, arms unsurely trying not to wrap her up in a hug. Trixie caved, embracing Katya, desperate for the comfort of her warmth against her skin.

“Sorry about that, you go back out. Have fun. Sorry, I’m fucking stupid.” Trixie tried not to cry, trembling against Katya’s skin, blinking back tears.

“No, honey, you’re fine.” She has two hands on Trixie’s back, softly gripping her fat in a way Trixie both loves and hates.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She mutters, cheeks heating up.

“It’s okay. You were scared.” Katya reassures, pressing her cheekbone up against Trixie’s. One hand moves, rubbing up and down Trixie’s back, catching the straps of her swimsuit. There’s a lot of skin contact between them, making Trixie feel warmer for different reasons than the embarrassment in her stomach.

“It’s not okay. I’m sorry.” Trixie sighed. “You don’t deserve that. I just, thought you were ‘gonna push me in…”

Katya sighed against her hot skin, burying her face down into Trixie’s next.

“I wouldn’t. You asked me not to.”

Trixie sighed too, not replying. She hadn’t been sure, at the time, and Katya knew that too. But she didn’t want an argument. Not another one.

*

 

As they’d left, Katya had teased Trixie for the full face of makeup she was wearing on their paddle boarding. It still stung a little, especially as Trixie saw the black crumbling from her mascara, all over her fingers as she rubbed her eyes. Especially whilst Katya was getting her a nerve-calming drink from the beach bar, a Coke for herself, and stopped to flirt with the lifeguard on the way back.

Katya hands her the drink, her favorite from the bar, and lays down next to her on a deck chair. Trixie tries to hide her face from Katya with it, prompting Katya to pout.

“You look great, by the way. I’m sorry for teasing you earlier.”

“Not anymore,” Trixie told her thickly, voice breaking embarrassingly.

“Yes anymore! You always look great, Trix.”

Ugh.

*

They spend the afternoon reading on the beach, Trixie carefully sheltered under an umbrella and Katya baking in the sun with no concern for wrinkles or sunburn. They’d brought very different books, and Trixie felt like she had to hide the stupid, girly romance paperback she was slowly making her way through. As always, Katya was effortlessly more cultured, tearing through heavy novels, a single memoir and now some classic fiction. Not only that, it was classic fiction written in Russian. Trixie almost left when she whipped the book out, clocking the curious looks from passers-by as Katya mouthed along to the words, so enraptured by the text that she doesn’t notice Trixie’s eye rolls. There was nothing to make you feel stupid like your tanning, brilliant ex-girlfriend reading in her second (or was it third?) language.

When she asked her about it, Trixie just got a shrug and a “ _I’m getting rusty_ ,” before Katya returned to her page. Trixie pushed away the temptation to check Instagram, staring blankly at her book to try and seem equally relaxed and cultured. 

Despite her urge to leave, Trixie stays on the beach, squinting against the sun and trying to get burnt. The only time Katya finally stops reading is to get them more drinks, trotting across the scorching sand, stopping once again at the lifeguard hut, before returning with two glasses in hand, one particularly alcoholic at Trixie’s request. The lifeguards had long since retrieved their paddleboards, renting them back out to other guests on the semi-quiet beach.

“Are you sure you want this?” Katya asks as she hands the drink over, looking down her nose at Trixie, so Trixie can see her eyes above her sunglasses. It feels patronising. Trixie knows she’s just looking out for her, but it feels patronising.

“Yes, mom.” She scoffs.

A lifeguard with a six-pack and perfect teeth is peering around at them from the hut that Katya keeps stopping at, and Trixie tries not to groan. 0f course the lifeguard Katya’s flirting with is fucking gorgeous. Trixie’s a full-blown lesbian, but she can see it now. How he’s fit and tanned and is probably on break from college. He’s not exactly Trixie. He’s interested in Katya, too, by the looks of it. Fuck.

His stupid fucking wave is enough to get Trixie riled up again, to take it out on Katya. To make her hate how Katya is showing off in her stupid bikini and with her big, clever books. And if they were dating, it would’ve been so hot, the way every damn adult on this beach wants to fuck her girlfriend, but they’re not dating so it’s not that hot, we’re-gonna-fuck-later-anyway jealousy, it just _hurts_.

Whatever, Katya can fuck whoever she wants. As long as it’s not in their shared room.

“I’m going back to the hotel.” She announces, the book already crammed in her bag. Let’s be real, it doesn’t matter if the pages crease, Trixie’s not going to finish it. She doesn’t need to hear about someone else’s happy ending.

Katya offers her some concern, wants to know why she’s leaving, if she can come too. But Trixie ignores her questions, feigns heatstroke or maybe being too drunk, and leaves, the sun glaring in her eyes.

*

Trixie gets hungry early, she’d skipped lunch and didn’t really want to pay for room service, and there’s still no sign of Katya. No texts and no unlocking of their hotel room door. So she goes to dinner alone, takes a half-charged phone and her sandy book, complete with slightly deteriorated makeup. Finally, she gets to spend some time alone, without Katya. Maybe the cute bartender will be there. What was her name? Chloe? Nope. Fuck.

Ah well, Trixie can find it out again later.

If she feels like it.

As it turns out, dinner alone isn’t nearly as good as she thought. There’s no angel in motorbike leathers to save her from her own thoughts, and she’s already scrolled through everything there is to see on Instagram. It’s hard to read while eating, so Trixie just finishes her food and leaves, trying to hold her head high, frizzy hair and all.

*

Fuck knows where Katya is, but Trixie tries to remind herself that she doesn’t care. She’s got the room to herself, so she’s just going to have a fucking bath. With the expensive rose oil she brought with her and a hair mask, and with a corny sex scene from her now-battered romance novel. After a couple of burnt feet, Trixie finally gets the water temperature right and sinks tentatively into the steamy bathtub, watching how her skin turned pink in the heat.

She tries teasing her nipples, caressing her clit, but it isn’t working. Every single noise in the corridor outside, or from the water sloshing around in the bathtub, makes her stop, listen out for Katya.

Katya’s got a room key, she reasons. That’s the reason she feels awkward getting off in the bath. Katya might walk in. That would be mortifying. Wouldn’t it?

Except now that’s the fantasy, that Katya walks in while Trixie’s working herself to climax, mouth agape and eyes screwed shut, hair miraculously golden and dry. And Trixie’s so fucking sexy that there’s nothing Katya can do but touch herself, lean over the bathtub until Trixie notices, two fingers shoved down her shorts inside of herself, her plush lower lip clenched between her teeth until it goes white.

Just before Trixie makes herself cum, Katya would sigh aloud, making Trixie open her eyes with shock, met with Katya’s stare, those wise green eyes boring into hers. _I want you_ , Katya would tell her, _I love you_.

Then Katya would help Trixie out of the tub, wrap her in a towel and feel her up through the fabric, so desperate that she doesn’t even bother moving Trixie to the bed, just throws Trixie’s makeup into the dry sink and lifts Trixie onto the counter. She tells Trixie how much she’s wanted her, how she was trying to make her jealous by flirting, how she finds Trixie _so fucking sexy_. That she’s been waiting for this moment, hanging around until Trixie’s in the bath and vulnerable before she pounced. She spreads Trixie’s thighs until they won’t go any further, and the hard granite countertop under Trixie’s ass doesn’t hurt, the cool just contrasts the burning between her thighs, as her tortured, her neglected clit is exposed to the air of the room. It’s not aching for long, though. Katya’s lips are around it, with just the right amount of pressure. She knows just what Trixie wants, working her in circles gently until Trixie’s pressing her head closer in.

And Katya’s moaning, just the way Trixie remembers, in that hot way that makes Trixie want to pleasure her every waking minute.

_Right there. Closer, closer…_

Katya’s touch is so perfect, wet, and Trixie can just imagine the sloppy sounds of her own pussy, the way her arousal would spread around Katya’s face.

_Closer, closer, closer…_

_Click_.

The door. That was the hotel room door. In real life. The acoustics in the bathroom enhance Trixie’s moaning, mean she can hear it a millisecond longer than she’s making the sounds, the water still sloshing around in the tub as Trixie’s hands still and her legs slam shut.

 _Shit_.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Trixie begs to any god that will listen that it’s a visit from room service. But it’s not.

“Trix?”

God. She’s still calling her ‘Trix’. This is just cruel.

“In here!” Trixie calls weakly, hating the breathiness of her voice.

She’s still so fucking horny, but Trixie knows she’ll never finish now. Not after that interruption.

“I’ll just… go again. I’ll be like ten minutes.”

 

Trixie doesn't answer, she feels like she doesn't have anything to say. The door clicks closed and Trixie's left alone with her thoughts. _Fuck_. She’s such an embarrassment.

Trixie hasn’t felt shame about masturbation or sex in years, Katya had pretty much gotten her over that. Except now Katya is the reason Trixie feels shameful about getting herself off. Of course, she knows there's nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like Katya even saw her, just heard her. Oh god, she prayed she hadn’t moaned Katya’s name. She didn’t, right?

Cleaning and drying her hands, Trixie found her phone. The bath water was still hot, but she put a little more scalding water in, feeling it burning her skin lightly. She found Kim’s contact information and was deeply grateful when her friend picked up almost instantly. Thank god Kim’s phone never leaves her hand.

“Hey! Trixie! How’s it going?”

There's talking in the background, and Trixie wonders who Kim is ignoring to talk to her. It _is_ justifiable, though. This is an emergency.

“Not great, Kim.”

“Oh my god! Really? Is it Katya?” She’s missed that lisp, but Trixie can’t appreciate the chance to gossip with Kim right now. She made this call for comfort exclusively.

“Kinda. I just… I’m struggling to be near her.”

Trixie tries to make it sound like she was annoyed like she was pissed her holiday was ruined, instead of deeply pining for the woman who sleeps barely six feet away from her. Except of course Kim knows Trixie better than she knows herself. This was why she called _Kim,_ after all.

“You regret breaking up with her?”

Oh no. She did. Kim was so astute it hurt. Maybe it’s the heat or the hormones, but Trixie finds herself crying before she even replies.

“Ye…ah.” She chokes out, admitting it to herself for the first time. She does miss Katya. She wants Katya back.

“But sh-she doesn’t miss me. She’s…”

 Kim ‘aww’-es down the phone, trying to convey her sympathy without seeing Trixie’s face. Trixie wonders if Kim can tell she’s in the bath. She doesn’t feel like explaining it.

“She’s what, Trixie?” Kim prompts, voice lowered.

She’s moved away from the chattering background noise, and Trixie imagines she’s in an empty corridor somewhere, one hand covering her mouth as she speaks. It’s comforting to think of Kim still living her normal life, back home.

“She’s flirting with a lifeguard.” It’s so petty, but Trixie’s crying about it anyway.

“Oh, Trixie. Has she slept with her?”

“It’s a _him_. And no!”

Kim ponders, for a second, humming down the line, before she spoke.

“Are you sure you’re not overreacting?”

Trixie huffs. That’s exactly what she feared Kim would say. Because deep down, she worries that she is overreacting. Making up a problem with Katya to take the blame off herself. The tears are still welling in her eyes, making her face feel puffy and her tongue too big for her mouth.

Speaking hurts her throat, but she has to get through it. She needs to get all of this out because otherwise she’ll say it to Katya, and that just isn’t an option.

“I don’t know. I think maybe I am. It’s just so hard to be around her.” Trixie starts, working her way up towards a proper rant.

She feels it coming, all those frustrations and insecurities working their way towards her voice box.

“She’s obviously not attracted to me anymore, I’ve put weight on and she’s gotten so fit and I feel so fucking ugly next to her. I wore my favorite swimsuit today and didn’t even get a second look. I nearly had a panic attack earlier because I'm dumb and I went too far out on the sea and got scared and she had to save me and I yelled at her anyway because I’m a huge bitch so she went and flirted with that dumb lifeguard. Plus, she was on the beach wearing that stupid bikini reading some super smart books and I just… her parents were right about me.”

Kim tries to interject, but Trixie talks over her. Kim was the only person that Trixie had consulted with before ending things with Katya. She’d cried into a bowl of takeout on Kim’s couch, sobbed about how she was too dumb for Katya, not pretty enough and too crazy for her.

“Trixie you know that’s not true.” Kim insists, but Trixie isn't done.

“No, listen to me. It’s not even that. I got so drunk yesterday and flirted with a bartender and she didn’t even care, she just got pissed off at me and then I was mean to her. Then I asked for a second bed that doesn’t fucking fit in our room and she can’t even sleep comfortably because I’m too pussy to share a perfectly good king-size. She basically thinks I’m a huge bitch and a drunk and I’m ruining everything. Again.”

Kim speaks again, something to try and stop Trixie spiralling and sobbing down the phone any more. But Trixie has one more serious complaint.

“Plus, I can’t even get off because our bathroom door doesn’t have a fucking lock.”

The outburst is so embarrassing Trixie wants to drown, and she can almost hear Kim thinking, or maybe she's trying not to laugh, processing everything Trixie's just had cried down a phone at her. Fortunately, Kim speaks before Trixie has time to consider sticking her head under the water's surface.

“Trixie, you know I love you. And I know Katya. She’d still be attracted to you no matter what. That’s why I’m about to say this:”

Kim waits for an _uh-huh_ from Trixie before she continues, voice stern.

“It’s not fair on her to lie to her, Trixie. You’re being a real bitch, yeah, but it’s clearly because you want her back.”

Trixie can’t even argue, Kim’s right on the money.

“You need to talk about why you broke up with her.”

“To her?” She asks incredulously.

“Yes! You left things on a weird note, you should talk it thought.” Kim’s voice softens. “You’re both good for each other. Work it out.”

There’s noise outside, the door closing, maybe. She hasn’t said anything, but Katya’s definitely out there, tiptoeing around but also not hiding her presence. Trixie can hear the unzip of her suitcase.

Suddenly, Trixie finds herself whispering.

“Kim, I’ll call you back.”

“Please talk to her!”

“No promises.”

On the other end of the phone Kim is protesting a little, but then telling Trixie she understands. Offering to drive upstate and pick her from the resort up like an overprotective mom.

“Thanks. I love you.” Trixie chokes out, before the phone finds itself thrown onto the bathmat, and Trixie sinks her face to her hands.

Katya doesn’t say anything, probably trying to save Trixie embarrassment.

She manages to quiet her sobs, accidentally knocking over some shampoo with her elbows.

Like a shot, Katya is across the room and outside the door, moving the handle. Trixie reaches out a hand in a poor attempt to keep it closed.

“Trixie?” Katya sounds worried, but also like she’s been caught red-handed. Trixie doesn’t like her tone at all.

“Don’t come in!” she insists, “I’m in the bath!”

The handle stops moving. She can’t hear Katya walk away though, instead she hears her slide down to sit outside the door.

“Still?” Katya comments, and Trixie can’t read her tone.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Her voice is stable, but that’s uncharacteristic for Katya. More worrying than hysterics. Trixie’s heart aches, because she remembers that serious Katya. The one that was only ever present in their bed, when they were home alone together talking seriously.

Her voice feels so damn small, but Trixie has to know.

“Where were you?” She hates the sound of her voice cracking from the crying earlier. The way it echoes around the tile bathroom.

“I went back out paddle boarding,” Katya tells her. “I wanted to try it properly.”

Oh.

Katya could be lying, but why would she be? Trixie's glad they aren't talking face to face, feels a flush rising up her face.

_“Sorry I ruined it earlier.”_

She mumbles the first time, and Trixie had to repeat herself for the noise to escape the bathroom. Which was even more embarrassing.

“Sorry I ruined things earlier.”

She thinks she can hear Katya's head thud against the door.

“Trixie… you know you didn’t.”

Katya's so fucking sweet, Trixie hates how undeserving she feels. Katya speaks up again.

“Did you get dinner?”

“Yeah, I went down to the restaurant.”

 _And it was really lonely,_ she wants to say. Trixie pulls the plug out of the bathtub, letting the water drain completely before she gets out of the bath.

“Did you get to eat?” Trixie asks.

“Yeah, I got something at the beach bar.”

Trixie’s pussy aches a little as she stands up, and she regrets being quite so rough with her clit. She was excited, though. She also regrets not getting to cum, but that was a missed opportunity now.

*

Once she was wrapped in a towel Trixie took a moment to splash cold water on her face, letting her skin cool down and be a little less red. In her rush to get in the bath, she hadn’t bought any clothes into the en suite, so she just had to face the music.

“I’m gonna open the door now.”

“Okay.” There was a shuffle as Katya moved, away from the door to scramble onto her bed. This room was fucking ridiculous. Trixie tried to protect what was left of her modesty as she clambered over the folding bed, Katya politely averting her eyes.

“Is it sad if I go to bed now?” Trixie asks, still not sure what to do, towel clutched to her chest. Katya fixes her with a look, then a smile, before moving to open her suitcase. She's still sweaty and in shorts and a t-shirt, her beach bag thrown messily by the door. She must have dropped it off the first time she came through the door, before having the decency to leave again. Trixie still flushed to think about the fantasy Katya had broken her out of, shame flourishing inside of her. God, what kind of woman was she? Getting off on a fantasy about her ex? Imagining a fantasy world where Katya was still totally in love with her? She was disgusting. This was so embarrassing. Fuck.

Now Katya was at the end of her bed, forced onto a crappy folding hotel twin, and Trixie prayed the smell of sex was washed out of the bathroom before Katya went to shower. She heard Katya shuffle, hating the way that knowing her ex-girlfriend was physically in the same room made her heart ache.

This was so difficult.  

“I hope you’re doing okay, Trixie.”

It didn’t feel like she wanted an answer, and Trixie didn’t trust herself to reply. Once again, she fell asleep to the sounds of Katya’s deep breathing and the flashing of the fire-alarm light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's gonna happen next? Will Trixie ever get less sad? Will I ever proofread properly?
> 
> Stick around to find out! And all comments are welcome! :)


	4. "It Was Never Hard to Love You"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the bath incident Trixie faces another day "relaxing" with Katya, trying to supress her feelings.

Trixie woke up painfully early the next morning, and took the best part of an hour to drag herself out of bed. She needed to get out of the room for a bit, away from Katya and the tension that would inevitably hit the second both of them were awake.

Katya must have tired herself out yesterday; the sun had almost risen and she was still dead to the world. It took some effort to clamber around the room and find her gym clothes, mostly due to the presence of the extra bed and trying to wake Katya, but eventually Trixie was ready to leave. She’d had a bath yesterday, but she didn’t feel any cleaner, really. The only thing left to do was sweat out the pain she was feeling, pound her feet into the treadmill until they ached and her problems felt far behind her. She was sure that Katya would’ve loved to come with her, but she needed to do this on her own. Katya probably needed some alone time too.

That woman spent too much time at the gym anyway. She had serious muscles and almost no body fat. It had both irritated and delighted Trixie when they were dating, the way Katya had so much energy and so much drive to get fit. She could never keep up with that.

Trixie caught herself thinking about Katya’s muscles as she ran, where her abs met her hips, how her thighs had tensed around Trixie’s head. She drove up the incline of the treadmill, roughly swiping away the sweat dripping down her forehead.

*

If she’d known what was happening later, there was no way Trixie would’ve hit the gym that hard. On her return to the hotel room Trixie found Katya already awake, stretching out in the hallway outside, presumably because of the dismal floorspace available in their room. She let Trixie quickly freshen up, but nothing else, before dragging her down into the bowels of the hotel, into a room of the gym that Katya seemed familiar with.

“I forgot about the fucking yoga.” Trixie grumbled, wondering what exactly she was thinking when she booked it all those months ago. Actually, she could remember exactly what she’d been thinking: that she’d have an excuse to stare at Katya’s ass and lithe body for a bit between their expected rounds of hot and wild sex. Except she didn’t need to stretch out and the hot sex was a long way from happening. Well shit, she could still stare, she supposed.

However, once the class started, Trixie wasn’t left with much opportunity to lust over Katya. Instead, she found herself being contorted into various shapes.

Fortunately, the dozen or so other people in the class weren’t faring particularly well either. All of them were sweating, shaking from the two-minute plank pose the instructor was insisting on. Katya, however, was having the time of her life. Apparently there was some secret yoga-instructor-pact that Trixie didn’t know about, because Katya and their teacher got on like a house on fire. And despite the awkwardness between them, Trixie enjoyed seeing Katya so enthused by something. Unlike Trixie, she opted to try every single “extra-difficult” pose they were offered, matching or outperforming the instructor with ease.

It became a competition between them, the instructor becoming increasingly frustrated, pretty much ignoring the rest of the class whilst she tried to find a pose Katya couldn’t do.

The others gratefully adopted a child’s pose whilst the experts showed off. Katya was having a great time with the instructor, laughing and pushing herself into the most impossible stretches. Trixie could understand why they got along, the instructor was gorgeous. Her natural hair and brown skin were beautiful, Trixie reasoned, and ‘Shangie’ was a cute name. Sounded a lot like ‘Trixie’ too. Not that she’d mention it, if Katya did decide to hook up with this instructor. That wasn’t her business. Trixie couldn’t help but imagine how intense that sex would be, both of them ridiculously strong and probably bendy enough to lick their _own_ pussies. Could Katya do that? Trixie had never found out.

There was a giant mirror on one wall of the yoga studio, and every few seconds Katya would meet Trixie’s eyes in the reflection, giving her a smirk and checking she was watching. _As if Trixie could look away._ Occasionally her look or pose would be stupid enough to make Trixie laugh, and Katya would laugh delightedly along with her, and the instructor would too, shooting Trixie a frustratingly _knowing_ look.

Trixie was sure that Katya had figured out her crush by now. Was it still a crush if you’d already dated? It was more than a crush, she supposed. _Undying love_ was a bit much, maybe.

Nonetheless, she’d definitely seen Trixie checking her out, looking dumbstruck. She couldn’t have missed the shake in Trixie’s arms whenever Katya contorted her body in a particularly thought provoking way.

She was shaken from her thoughts when the Shangie addressed the whole class again, standing at the front while Katya watched her intently, still in a half side-split. Trixie tried not to scoff, mostly jealousy, at Katya’s sheer indifference to the ridiculous stretch she was in.

Maybe the instructor wanted to take things a step up from her normal classes, or maybe it was because almost all the guests at this damn hotel were couples, but suddenly Katya was helping her demonstrate a series of increasingly-complex, very touchy couples’ poses that Trixie really didn’t feel comfortable doing with these any of these strangers. Turns out she didn’t have to, because she was left out. Everyone else already had a partner. It felt like being the last picked for sports teams at school, backing up towards the studio wall to escape Shangie’s pitying gaze while the instructor had her arms around Trixie’s ex-girlfriend.

Trixie couldn’t quite chameleon her way out of this, though. Katya spotted her shrinking away, and whispered to their instructor before prancing across the room to Trixie, holding out both hands to drag her towards a mat. These mirrors were a nightmare. Trixie caught herself trying to rearrange her leggings to look more flattering, tightening her ponytail, hating Katya for insisting she didn’t have time to put makeup on. She could’ve at least covered her red, oily skin.

“Put your weight on me,” Katya insisted, laid flat on the mat with both feet up in the air, ready to brace against Trixie’s hip bones.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Trixie scoffed. She didn’t want to say it, but Katya just raised her eyebrows. She wouldn’t let Trixie out of this. “Kat, I’ll crush you!”

“You won’t! C’mon, trust me.”

Katya’s face looked so sincere, and around them couples were giggling and falling, a few of them holding the pose successfully and being praised by Shangie for it. Embarrassment burned through her chest. It was mostly tiny, fit women perched atop their burly husbands. None of them would look quite like Trixie and Katya, a tiny woman supporting her almost-fat girlfriend.

Begrudgingly, she stepped closer, letting Katya hold her hands again as she braced herself for failure. As much as she wanted to touch and be touched by Katya, a mortifying yoga accident wasn’t how she wanted to do it.

“Let me lift you. Come here, lean forward.”

Trixie shifted her weight slowly onto Katya’s feet, with Katya reaching up to settle them in the ‘v’ of her hips. Katya had pretty small feet, and they hurt where they pressed into her lower abdomen. Trixie cringed, but didn’t have time to adjust before Katya hauled her forwards, pulling on both hands.

“Katya… I’m not sure… ” she started, gasping at the pose Katya was holding her in.

Their bodies were nearly parallel, although Trixie couldn’t manage to hold her legs out straight like the other women could. Katya’s face was screwed up a little in concentration, or maybe from the effort of the lift, so she wasn’t watching Trixie. Instead, she kept slightly adjusting, until they looked a bit like the pose that the instructor had demonstrated with Katya.

“Amazing, ladies!” Shangie encouraged, running her hands down Trixie’s calves to try and lift them up. “You’re a strong lady, Miss Katya.”

 _Ugh._ As soon as she left, Trixie lost her form, both from embarrassment and exhaustion.

“I’m done!”

Trixie didn’t give Katya time to let her down gracefully, instead rolling off her to the side. She caught their instructor watching from a distance, and tried not to scowl as she reached a hand out to help Katya up. She knew her own face was bright red, whilst Katya’s was only a little flushed. It was so frustrating.

“God, you’re not even sweating!” Trixie whined, rubbing at her sore hips and watching the shorter woman in the mirror.

“I had the easy job,” she shrugged, twisting side to side until her vertebrae _crack_ -ed in the way that always made Trixie cringed.

“That’s not true.”

*

The rest of the class passed in a similar fashion, except Trixie didn’t let Katya lift her again, instead opting for the simplest version of a pose and just letting Katya do her own heavy lifting. At one point the ripple of Katya’s muscles made Trixie fully fall on her ass, and she clambered to her feet completely mortified by the sweat print she left through her leggings.

The leggings were another problem. They were unforgiving, showing every curve of her legs and of her stomach, and Trixie felt like the spent half the time rearranging them. The dark fabric could hide her fat sometimes, but as soon as she forgot her posture she would catch a glimpse of her own insecurities in the mirror. Katya hadn’t mentioned it, but Trixie was sure she’d seen.

Their warm down was spent back to back, taking it in turns to stretch their spines out. The other couples enjoyed it, taking in deep breaths or giggling under the weight of their partners’ bodies. It felt like torture for Trixie. Katya was so flexible she could curve her spine backwards enough to completely cover Trixie’s forward facing bend. They were _so_ close together, the heat from her body sinking into Katya’s, their sweat mixing through their shirts. Oh god, did she smell? She’d been sweating in this stupid hot room for over an hour. She probably reeked. At least Katya was sweaty too, although she actually still smelt decent. Instead of, y’know, like a running shoe. Katya was hiding her disgust very well, but it still made Trixie hold her body a little more folded up, arms clamped to her sides.

Finally, Shangie announced ten minutes of corpse pose to end the class. Maybe it was supposed to be relaxing, to lay on a mat in your own sweat for far too long, alone with your thoughts and the fake ocean soundtrack. It wasn’t doing much to ease Trixie’s worries.

She was laid out about three feet from Katya. A few of the couples in the room were holding hands, and Trixie let herself imagine how that would feel for a second. To hold Katya’s clammy hand in her own, right now. She had nothing else to do, after all. How much fun this class could have been. Plenty of the others were treating it like foreplay, cheeks warmed by what exactly they’d be getting up to once they returned to their hotel rooms. Some of these couples has a honeymoon-vibe, and it made Trixie mourn what could have been. But weddings were serious and heavy and she would be legally bound to Katya’s family for the rest of her life, and they wouldn’t let that happen. They wouldn’t let their oldest daughter marry some midwestern ditz. Trixie wondered if anyone would have objected at the wedding.

 *

Katya was cheery as she they left, chatting endlessly about the wonderful instructor and how she would’ve taught the class differently. Trixie felt guilty for dampening Katya’s enthusiasm, she just wasn’t a yoga fan. At least, not in the ‘class full of straight people with my ex-girlfriend at a hotel’ sense. She tried to nod along, though, hiding her disinterest and genuinely enjoying how happy Katya was.

 

Trixie knew what was coming next. She had been looking forward to the massage session they’d booked, but the feeling of trepidation still grew in her stomach.

“Do you ‘wanna shower before the spa? Our appointment’s in 15.” Katya asked, interrupting herself from wondering aloud about the benefits of students working together in class.

She definitely needed to shower. Katya kept talking the whole way back to their room, with so much enthusiasm that Trixie couldn't help smiling and engaging her. She chatted through the bathroom door, too, sat on the floor outside whilst Trixie showered. It was weirdly intimate, yet comforting. Grounding, distracting her from her own runaway train of thoughts.

They switched places when Trixie was done, and she sat on the end of Katya’s bed whilst the older woman showered, applying makeup that she hoped would look unclockable. It was only a couple of minutes before the water stopped, and she could hear Katya pottering on the other side of the door. The thought of Katya’s naked body was definitely making her feel some kind of way, so Trixie focused on the ocean, watching the people on the beach outside.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“What?”

“To yoga, I mean. Thanks.”

Katya had opened the bathroom door wrapped in a short towel, a wave of steam washing over Trixie and her freshly-done face.

“It’s no problem.” Trixie shrugged, quickly jumping off Katya’s bed to get away from her wet, naked body.

“I know you didn’t want to go, and sorry if I was distracted.” Katya shrugged.

She was so sweet, always thinking of Trixie like that. She hadn’t minded in the slightest, having the chance to ogle Katya’s lithe body unobserved. After ending their relationship, though, Trixie didn’t have the right to say that out loud. Instead, she just giggled.

“It’s fine. It was funny, watching you being better than the instructor.”

Katya blushed, readjusting her towel as she bent to find clothes. Trixie knew she’d be able to see her ass, if she watched Katya hold herself in half at the waist, so she tried not to stare.

“I don’t know if I was _better_.”

“You were showing off,” Trixie teased, loving how being called out made Katya squirm. Oh, fuck it. Might as well dig this hole a little deeper, Mattel.

“That made it worth going.”

She didn’t give Katya time to reply, Trixie just headed for the door, waiting outside while Katya dressed.

*

The spa was nice, in a corporate sort of way. It was perfectly clean, disconcertingly so, and the plastic-wrapped white flannel robes felt fresh off some _relaxation-conveyer-belt_.

The changing rooms were pleasantly warm, though, and Katya wasted no time in stripping. Trixie looked away, wide eyed, but still caught sight of Katya’s nude form in the mirror.

She fumbled her own sundress, playing with the hemline as she heard a fully-naked Katya unwrapped her own robe.

“Do we _have_ to change?” Trixie asked quietly. There was no-one else in the wood-lined room, just a row of lockers to observe them. Katya approached her, putting one hand on her shoulder to forced Trixie to face her.

“Yeah. It’s just me, though. You can go to the bathroom and undress, if that’s easier?”

Trixie had been standing there thinking too long, she was making a big deal out of nothing.

*

The first time they’d had sex, Trixie insisted on having the lights off. Katya had barely been able to see fumbling in the dark to get to Trixie’s body, everything made ten times more difficult by the pitch black. It had been over a month of praise and fairy lights, blindfolds, candles and ‘let me keep my shirt on’, before Trixie finally relented and let Katya fuck her on top of the covers, completely naked. She could still remember that day. How elated Katya was. She was such a visually stimulated person, and she’d cum faster than Trixie had ever seen before as she watched Trixie, glassy-eyed. She still wouldn’t leave the bedroom without Spanx and a bra, but it was something. The start of Trixie getting more comfortable, more adventurous, spurred on by Katya’s giddiness and praise every time Trixie let her get them both undressed.

Trixie’s trust was hard-won, but Katya never ceased to amaze with her love and patience. She’d missed that when they broke up. Having Katya in the house to reassure her and help her. Trixie knew she shouldn’t be reliant on that. She’d tried so hard to not need Katya. But it was hard. Kim’s ‘sad binge eating’ sessions just made her hate herself, it was a vicious circle, and Trixie wasn’t quite sure how to fix that without the support of the best woman she’d ever dated.

Now, though, Trixie had gone _so_ long without another living soul seeing her naked. In fact, Katya was probably the last person she’d undressed for. Scratch that, Katya definitely was.

Trixie considered traipsing all the way to the bathroom, dealing with her shame in the silence of a cubicle, but she didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene. Instead, the just turned away from Katya, tried to be aware of the mirrors, and stripped off her dress. It got stuck a little, and she blushed at the feeling Katya helping her get the garment over her head.

Stood there, in a lacy push-up bra and high waisted underwear – both of which Katya had bought for her for her birthday last year – Trixie didn’t know how to feel. She crossed one arm over her chest, the other fumbling with her still-bagged spa gown. Katya hung up the sundress for her, straightening it out carefully. But Katya was _definitely_ blushing, avoiding Trixie’s face and focusing far too much on the fabric.

Finally Trixie broke the plastic that covered the robe, unfolding it on as quickly as she could without looking frantic.

“Do I have to take my bra off?” she asked quietly, like a nervous teenager. Her mind ticked back to awkward first-bra-shopping experiences in a cheap store, watched over by her impatient mother. It felt horrible. Katya met her eyes, frowning.

“Yeah. You’ll have to Trix, for the massage. Only if you’re comfortable, though.”

Trixie groaned, waiting for Katya to turn away before she stripped and pulled the gown over herself, fumbling to close it all the way across her chest and double knotting the belt tight around the narrowest part of her waist.

 “Cool. You ready to go?” Katya prompted, holding out a hand.

Trixie pretended she hadn’t noticed, but walked out of the changing room close beside Katya anyway, drumming her fingernails as they waited outside the spa room for their names to be called.

*

“Mattel?”

Thank god. The guilt from her refusal to take Katya’s hand was setting in, making Trixie feel awful. After all, Katya had done nothing wrong. Been nothing but kind and understanding and supporting. Plus, Trixie really wanted to, to hold Katya’s hand. So why wouldn’t she?

They followed a young masseuse into the dimly lit room, and Trixie’s stomach dropped. She had expected they would be close, except apparently that wasn’t enough for this place. The massage tables were practically connected. Shit.

The therapists left them to get comfortable, and Trixie’s discomfort set in again. Katya apparently noticed, and she stood aside whilst Trixie removed her robe, hanging both their cover-ups on the door for as long as it took for Trixie to lay down on the table, cover herself, and give Katya a shaky ‘ _okay’_. She older woman had no qualms as she strode back across the room naked, with both a body and a confidence that Trixie was acutely jealous of.

*

The massage was nice. She’d felt insecure from the stranger’s hands over her, but after a few minutes Trixie got over it. And thank god, because this was much needed, following the tension she’d picked up at yoga that morning. It was nice to let go. Trixie caught herself moaning at the oiled-up hands between her shoulder blades, easing her neck from side to side and making her melting into the towel beneath her. She could hear Katya trying not to laugh every time she whined or groaned, so she hammed it up a little to hear more of Katya’s reaction.

Wordlessly, she reached out a hand, fumbling across the towel until she could link her fingers with Katya’s. Katya gripped her tightly and one slender thumb rubbed across the ridges on the back of Trixie’s hand, draining tension from Trixie even faster than the professional easing knots out of her back.

*

After the session Trixie felt a lot calmer, and far more accepting of Katya’s natural touchy-feely-ness. She’d let Katya hold onto her arm on the walk through to the pool, enjoyed how their soft skin felt together. They’d changed into swimsuits, even Katya didn’t want to brave the pool naked, and everyone else must have been at lunch because the whole pool complex was near-abandoned. Despite her near-nakedness, Trixie found that she could ignore the jiggle of her own thighs as they walked in favor of listening to Katya’s work anecdotes.

It wasn’t until they’d sunk into a hot tub, in the furthest corner of the spa, away from the couple of other guests, that Katya finally wanted Trixie to talk.

“So, you kept the lingerie?” she asked, melting into the water so only her head and shoulders were visible.

“Yeah. It’s nice.” Trixie shrugged and tried not to stammer over her admittedly-short answer, focusing on the tingling of hot water against her toes. Katya hummed.

“I’m glad. It always looked good on you. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

The way Katya spoke in the past tense made Trixie’s eyes hot with tears, and she looked away, focusing on the rising steam and the bubbling other hot tub, rather than tension in her head. But Katya seemed sad too, and Trixie couldn’t ignore the notion that it might be her fault.

“Listen, Katya, I… uhh… think I need to apologise.”

_For which bit? The bit where I dumped you with no explanation? The bit where I used your kindness against you? How I’ve been entitled and hot and cold and rude to you the whole time we’ve been on this stupid trip that you mostly organised?_

The other woman didn’t say anything, but smiled sadly, looking deep into Trixie’s watery eyes. Trixie took a deep breath before she carried on.

“I’ve been really stressed, and I took that out on you. It’s not your fault for coming with me or whatever, I just… acted like it was. You’re not unwelcome here. This is just... all very out of my comfort zone.”

Katya didn’t reply, and Trixie was left to mull over her own words, wondering if she’d said something wrong.

It was in Katya’s nature to ramble endlessly, but also to never say anything she didn’t mean. The long silences felt awkward to Trixie, but she knew Katya was thinking, carefully calculating her words to make sure she didn’t make any mistakes. She would be finding a way to say what she meant without upsetting Trixie. Still, Trixie hated it, and it was making her freak out. Trixie distracted herself. She played with the jets, pushing her feet against them, flinching away every time she brushed Katya’s skin with her own. She was going crazy, though. Trixie had to say something.

“You really were amazing at yoga earlier.”

Katya smiled, acknowledging Trixie’s compliment even if it came from a place of _desperately needing to say anything_.

“I heard you last night.”

“In the bath?” Trixie blanched.

Heard _what,_ exactly? She suspected Katya had heard her on both occasions she’d entered the room. She’d just hoped the other woman wouldn’t address it. Katya coughed awkwardly, making Trixie cringe.

“On the phone with Kim, I mean.”

Oh. Thank god.

“How much did you hear?” Trixie mumbled, kicking herself for every stupid thing she’d said in her mini-breakdown.

Katya would have heard her crying, no matter what which part of the conversation she’d walked into. That was a given. She hoped against hope that maybe Katya hadn’t overheard any sordid details.

“I heard that you regretted getting that second bed.”

 Trixie sighed. Apparently Katya was starting out easy, because she must’ve heard more than that. Nonetheless, she was almost glad that she’d brought it up. It was easier this way.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just freaked out and I was really drunk.”

Katya seemed understanding, nodding and floating horizontally so that her toes poked above the surface of the water, bare of nail polish.

“I get it. It would be weird sharing. Although, my back is fucking killing me.”

Time to bite the bullet.

“We can get rid of it, if you want? My bed’s huge, there’s, like, no space in that room with two.”

“Would that be alright?” Katya looked at her hopefully, floating up in the tub like a child, trying to stretch out fully. Her hips and abs were at the surface of the bubbling water, and Trixie caught herself staring.

“Totally.” Trixie agreed.

They were silent a bit longer before Katya moved on to the next conversation topic, evidently choosing wording that she hoped wouldn’t cross any of Trixie’s constantly shifting boundaries.

“You looked really nice, yesterday. It’s a nice swimsuit and you looked great. I forgot to tell you that and I’m sorry.”

Trixie took a deep breath, trying not to take the compliment to heart, as wonderful as it was to hear. Especially from Katya. Except it was from Katya, and that’s why she couldn’t let herself take it seriously. Katya was just trying to make her feel better. Apparently she’d heard most of her conversation with Kim.

“You don’t have to say that. I was just being stupid on the phone.” She mumbled, avoiding Katya’s searching gaze.

“No I mean it. I just… thought you wouldn’t appreciate me looking.”

Trixie tried to look impartial, humming thoughtfully and watching their joined hands.

“I don’t mind.”

 _Don’t_. Present tense.

The silence enveloped them again, both women thinking through everything which had just transpired.

“Is that all you overheard?”

Trixie was teasing, hoping Katya would take the hint and drop the subject, but also appreciating how healing this conversation was. It was nice to get everything out in the open.

“Well, I also I heard you couldn’t get off.”

"Fuck _all the way off_."

Katya had both eyebrows raised, wiggling into Trixie’s personal space. And despite everything, Trixie laughed. Katya’s stupid expression was, she had to admit, funny. The kind of expression she’d give when they were flirting in the back of a cheap restaurant. Or when they were both sober, laughing at their wasted friends during a messy party.

It felt nice.

Katya held out a wet hand, and Trixie took it in her own, feeling the heat between their skin.

Suddenly, the older woman sat up straight, used their joined hands to make them face each other.

“What you said, about my parents not liking you, that’s not true and you know it.”

"They told you that all the time. Your dad basically said it to my face."

"That's not fair, Trix. That was before they knew you!"

Trixie tried to pull her hand away, but Katya held tight, insistent on confronting her.

“You’re too good for me,”

Trixie was arguing, but inside she felt resigned. This discussion was six months overdue. Trixie couldn’t hear any opposing views now. She’d spent so much time mourning this relationship, the one that she’d ended, that there was no point Katya telling her otherwise. She couldn't go back.

 “You’re better than me. Your parents knew that.”

“That’s not what this is about. I don't care what they think, I can make my own choices." Katya sounded exasperated, trying to grab for Trixie's hands as if this fight had happened a year ago, when they were still cocooned in her old apartment.

"So you are too good for me?" 

Trixie was pushing Katya's buttons. She knew exactly where they were, how she could trigger the most extreme reactions. Which ones hurt the most.

"I’m not too fucking ‘good’ for you, that’s ridiculous! Stop being stupid!” 

“Stupid?”

In her outrage, Trixie had yelled back loud enough to turn heads.

Katya’s face fell. She dropped Trixie’s hand. All the comfort and relaxation she’d found in sharing this small space and intimate conversation with Katya was completely gone, evaporated into the air with the hot tub steam.

“Not stupid. Irrational. You’re not stupid. That’s not what I meant.” Katya desperately tried to save herself, looking at Trixie with wild eyes that screamed ‘ _I wish I could take that back_ ’.

“Fuck you, Katya.”

She gasped, like Trixie had physically hit her. Katya wrinkled her nose in the that distinctive, angry way that was painfully familiar.  

“You think I don’t miss you, Trixie? Every day? As soon as I wake up?”

“Katya… it was too hard…” she tried to interrupt, to stop Katya from talking and wrenching on her delicate, freshly-repaired heart strings. But Katya wasn’t listening.

“There hasn’t been anyone else since you.”

She had to get out. Now. Get away from Katya and all her bullshit. She knew they should talk this through, but her chest was tight with hurt and she wasn’t sure what to say. With a weak excuse to Katya she started to climb out of the hot tub, but the shorter blonde opened her mouth of speak. There was no one else around, but Katya whispered anyway.

“Trix!”

With a scowl at her nickname, Trixie stopped, upper body getting cold from being half-submerged in the hot tub. Katya laid a hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. She looked ready to cry.

“It was never hard loving you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute beast. Lau @fookoff has been a godsend this whole fic, helping me edit and giving me a lot of the good ideas. I reckon we're over halfway through now, based off the plot i wrote from everyone's suggestions. Feel free to yell at me in the comments!
> 
> NB: Trixie's body / general confidence issues are difficult to write. I've only got one account to draw from, and I know that shit's unique to everyone. I'll change stuff if it's causing a reader problems, you've just gotta tell me!
> 
> thanks for reading!


	5. “I’ll Be Right Back.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even stuck in the same space, the missed connections continue.

The instant Trixie got back to the room, she regretted leaving the spa. The memory of their conversation bounced back and forth in her head, every angle of what Katya’s words might have meant, how Katya might have interpreted her own words, whether Katya was mad at her or not.

There was one thing she couldn’t misinterpret though.

“It was never hard loving you.”

Their hotel room was messy and cramped, in an unpleasant way that their messy and cramped flat hadn’t been. The extra bed taunted her, the crumpled white sheets the black tank top she slept in thrown on top. Katya’s open suitcase drew her towards it, the familiar clothes in _so-very-Katya_ problem patterns that she wanted to rummage through and hold close.

It was surprisingly, and annoyingly, and obviously, lonely.

For once, Trixie let herself wallow in how much she _missed Katya._ How she never got her roots redone on time, the brightness of her smile and her seemingly-random episodes of insomnia, early morning yoga and stupid-sweet coffee.

That shoebox back at her apartment, chock full of the worthless keepsakes Trixie could never throw away, it felt like she was living in it. Surrounded by things she’d segmented into a tiny part of her space, just there when she needed to mourn. Each bite-marked toothbrush, pair of rag-thin panties, they were reminders that Trixie never wanted their relationship to be done. How could she get rid of the best woman she’d ever met if she couldn’t even throw away her stupid ‘good morning, baby’ post-it notes?

Trixie thought she’d been annoyed by Katya’s constant presence. That the root of her problem was a ruined holiday and no privacy. She’d craved alone time since that first night, frustration creeping up on her, but now she would give anything for Katya to come back.

Katya hadn’t returned to the room yet. Barely an hour had passed, but Trixie figured that the older woman couldn’t entertain herself in the quietness of the spa for that long. She should be back by now. Perhaps she’d found someone to talk to. Someone pretty and easy and not _crazy_. Someone new who’d never broken Katya’s heart and then been a huge bitch about it. Someone with a gorgeous smile and a personality Katya would never have to properly learn the extent of, someone who she could enjoy for a night while Trixie waited in the room like an abandoned pet dog.

She wasn’t waiting for Katya, though.

No, Trixie was enjoying some much-needed alone time. Sat on the bed, forcing herself to turn the pages of the stupid book she’d brought with her, that she’d bought just because there were supposed to be lesbians in it. It sucked, but she had to do something. The characters were having some bizarre miscommunication problem, part of some thinly-veiled Romeo and Juliet plotline, clichéd and frustrating to read. Each interaction between the leads only got more annoying, and Trixie found herself reaching for her phone.

She couldn’t say anything. To Katya, that was. She couldn’t call or send a text. Not following their discussion at the pool. It wasn’t her right to encroach on Katya’s pain, to force herself back into a difficult conversation and aggravate the wound Katya was undoubtedly licking. That didn’t diminish Trixie’s hurt, though. It was doubly painful because it was direct at herself.

As much as she’d tried to push it onto Katya, she realised, there was only one person responsible for the breakdown of their relationship.

She sat alone long enough to push her pride away, to let the need to be close to Katya, to share their lives again. If Katya had walked through the door, Trixie would have fallen at her feet to beg for forgiveness.

*

Katya didn’t come back. Not for the hours Trixie stayed awake. Not when she changed into her nightgown, or borrowed Katya’s phone charger because she couldn’t find hers, or stared at the spare bed for five full minutes, deciding whether she should get the hotel staff to take it away. Would that be presumptuous? Would it be an olive branch to extend towards Katya? Was it her decision to make? That extra fucking bed had taken so many hours of Trixie’s life, made her worry and feel guilt, but for some reason she couldn’t make the call to get rid of it. She needed the barrier of a physical space between them.

Trixie forced herself to stay awake, even contemplated a midnight coffee, as she tried to focus on finishing that damn book. Then she could at least say she resolved _something_ on this holiday. Except that the lovers both died and each of their deaths made Trixie weep in that unsatisfied, aching way she was getting all too familiar with. She turned off the overhead lights to hide her puffy, reddened face from Katya, just in case she decided to stroll back through the door while Trixie was still reading.

 Eventually she succumbed to sleep, laid on one side of the bed and let her eyes adjust to the dark. Where was Katya? Was she okay? Was she drinking? Injured? Dead?

 Was she enjoying the tiki-torch-lit beach, making out with a stranger, with the backdrop of the rocky Californian coastline? Had she finally hunted down that lifeguard or one of his equally gorgeous colleagues? Trixie couldn’t help but wonder if Katya was playing mind games. Though, she’d never known the woman to be in the slightest bit mean, to act in a way driven by malice or bitterness, she couldn’t shake the thought. It didn’t stop her worrying. Worrying that maybe she’d finally pushed too hard. Hurt her too much, driven her knife too deep.

If Katya came in later that night, Trixie didn’t wake.

*

“Trixie.”

The curtains weren’t open, but there was an overhead light switched on in the room, and it hurt her head when Trixie rolled her face out from the pillows.

“Trixie, we need to get going.”

Her head felt a little rough from the night before, despite not drinking. Must have been the crying. From the stupid book.

“Where are we going?”

She turned to face Katya, who was already dressed in a bathing suit with a coverup. Trixie had no idea what time it was.

“Surfing lessons. We should probably eat first, though. It’ll be tiring.”

Her answer came with a sympathetic wince, and a tilt of the head. It was against her better judgement, and at the whim of her exhausted body, but Trixie shook her head, clutching a pillow close to her chest where the sheets weren’t quite covering her.

“I’ll skip breakfast. I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure? I can wait for you.” Katya sounded concerned, which would be sweet if it wasn’t so early.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

*

Katya was right. She was always fucking right.

Trixie felt like she was dying. Even squeezing into that wetsuit was exhausting, and she hoped that the other people in the group couldn’t hear the groan of her stomach. Katya certainly could, judging by the way she was holding out a hand to steady her, as Trixie hopped on one foot and hoped the cellulite on her thighs had miraculously taken a day off.

The pair hadn’t exchanged many words the morning. Certainly, none of them had been serious. As desperate as Trixie was to talk, she knew she couldn’t initiate that conversation. She had to let Katya do it, and when the floodgates opened, she’d grovel for forgiveness.

*

The repercussions of letting Katya choose their activities had set in at yoga, but surfing was a whole new beast.                                                                         

Trixie found herself sweating before they even hit the water, the West Coast sun making her wet suit near-enough cook her alive. Katya and a few of the men had theirs rolled down to their waists, toned abs catching the sunlight, but Trixie sure as hell wasn’t doing that.

When the introductions to ‘how to stand on a board’ and ‘how to not drown’ were over, much to the delight of everyone else in the group – who already appeared to be adept surfers – the whole group dashed to the waterline. Strong front crawls took the others to beyond where waves were breaking, but Trixie was barely lying on her board yet.

Bless her heart, as Trixie’s mother would say, Katya was waiting back for her.

Apparently, the older woman hadn’t surfed since she was a kid, on beach holidays that Trixie could only dream of, but Trixie knew Katya would be pretty decent at any kind of sport she tried her hand at. She was only pretending she wanted someone to practice with.

Nonetheless, Trixie was grateful as Katya held the board still, letting her awkwardly perch atop it before pulling through the water.

It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment, when Trixie learnt she had absolutely no natural proclivity towards surfing. She shouldn’t have expected anything, having barely been in the ocean before moving to L.A., but it was still annoying. Particularly when everyone else is so damned good at it, making it look effortless and fun.

She tried to stay in the shallows, but the fear of deep water still welled up inside her. This close to the shore she felt like she was in a washing machine, being thrown back and forth by the powerful ocean currents that barely seemed to affect the other swimmers in the water. She constantly checked where her feet were, panicking when she couldn’t see them, unease blocking her throat as the salt hurt her nose. It only took a few embarrassing falls for her to be done, too tired to stay in the water.

Trixie had never felt weaker, watching Katya have a great time, loving the water with absolutely no anxieties at all, except for constantly checking Trixie was still afloat. Trixie waved off all help from Katya, let the older woman focus on the instructions of the enthusiastic and handsy instructors, let her experiment and fall off the board again and again.

When Trixie finally called it quits, having failed to even stand on the board, Katya insisted on swimming all the way over to her, holding Trixie’s board flat in one hand as she laid atop her own.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try standing? I’ll help you.”

“No, I’m good. I’m too tired, I’ll let you have fun.”

The redness of her face, or the raggedness of her breath, must have convinced Katya that she was telling the truth, because she helped Trixie back to shore, steadying her board through the smaller waves breaking near the beach.

The kind, overly-understanding smile of the instructor as she returned her board, collecting their bags, didn’t make Trixie feel any better.

“I’ll wait here.” she called back to Katya, who was waiting around by the shoreline.

“You don’t have to!”

Trixie didn’t mind. She wanted to stay.

She could do with laying out on a lounger for a bit. It was still early enough that she’d be relatively unobserved, soaking up the sun through a meticulous layer of sun cream, with the salt drying underneath making her skin feel tight and itchy.

*

Katya was fucking _good_ at surfing.

The same lifeguard was there, watching keenly, and Trixie feels irrationally protective. She watched Katya so intently that there was no way he could get to her before Trixie, no way he could possibly be so in tune with any sign of Katya struggling as _Trixie._

It’s stupid. Katya’s fine. She’s great, in fact, laughing at herself and floating around, occasionally shouting comments to the others floating in the water.

A few of the surfers had stripped off their wetsuits as the day warmed up, but Trixie was glad that Katya wasn’t one of them. That water was damned cold, and Katya doesn’t have an ounce of body fat to insulate her.

Every time she comes to shore (either riding the board in as far as she can before she chickens out and jumps off, or totally wiping out in a way that makes Trixie gasp), Trixie tries to wave, to casually get Katya’s attention.

She’d bought her a smoothie, as she bought her own fruit salad for breakfast, hoping to offer her some rehydration, but eventually it got too warm and Trixie drank it herself, still keeping a keen eye on Katya even as her lips were wrapped around the straw.

Of course, she was one of the last in the water, with boundless energy to swim back up when she was caught by the waves. They avoided the calls of the lifeguards as long as they could, but eventually the last of the surf class rode one last wave in, emerging from the water with straggly hair and huge grins, reddened cheeks and lugging boards behind them. Trixie swallowed the lump in her throat as Katya ditched her surfboard and bounced along beside the other surfers, crowding around a table under the shade of the beach bar, struggling to unzip the back of her wetsuit before asking a petite brunette woman for help.

Trixie couldn’t decide whether to join them, settling instead for squinting at her greasy phone screen and trying not to watch Katya from across the beach.

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

Suddenly, there was Katya, right in front of her with a pair of bright orange drinks in hand. Trixie tried to keep her excitement from bubbling up, her gratitude and her relief at being accepted again by Katya. She knew it was pathetic, but running her fingers down damp neoprene, alongside the zip, was far more intimate than it had any right to feel.

They passed the drinks back and forth as she helped Katya wriggle out of the wetsuit, struggling to peel it from her skin. Finally, it was laid out on a sun bed beside Trixie’s already-dry suit, and Katya claimed her own drink, chugging it down like a woman parched. Trixie giggled.

“Starting early?”

“Oh my god Trixie, it’s fruit juice.”

She tried not to flush as Katya laughed, sipping at her own non-alcoholic drink, smiling like she was in on the joke.

“I’m kidding.”

*

They were never silent, but they also never talked about anything that carried weight. They laid side by side for hours, making idle gossip about the couples on the beach, the sea and the sky and the sun, the hotel beds and the surfing group. Never their home lives. Never about their jobs or their flatmates or feelings or _them._

Trixie listened intently, desperate for a sign that Katya wanted to talk _properly_. However, if an opportunity presented itself, Trixie never saw it.

*

The air had started to chill by the time they headed back to the room, making Trixie shiver. They were both intent following their planned events schedule like clockwork. Trixie had no desire to talk about what she _wanted_ to do with Katya, so following their pre-arranged schedule felt like the best option.

Unfortunately, tonight was a communal ‘couples dinner’, which past-Trixie had been absolutely desperate to attend. Maybe it was because she’d never believed she could find a place and person to do that kind of thing with, but Trixie could still remember the excitement when she suggested it to Katya. When she begged for them to book it until it turned into a play-fight, ending with Katya’s head between her thighs. She wondered if Katya remembered, too, as they walked down to the restaurant.

Katya’s suit was a new one, one tailored precisely but also wrinkled after being crammed carelessly into a suitcase. Trixie wished she’d offered to iron it.

Her own dress was older, one that preceded her move to California, that hugged her a little tighter these days but left all the right swathes of skin exposed. She’d worn it on countless dates, most of them with Katya. Despite that, or maybe because of that, it made Trixie feel confident. It let her walk with tall posture and big, noisy steps of her high heels, keeping up with Katya easily despite her uncomfortable shoes.

Round, white-cloth covered tables were laid out across the room. It reminded Trixie of a fancier school prom, all place cards and needlessly extravagant table centrepieces. They were some of the first to arrive, taking their time in snooping around and finding the right seats and attempting to remember the names of people due to sit around them. Trixie knew Katya would remember easily, but she needed to make an effort to familiarise herself with the others.

“This is nice.”

“Yeah.” Trixie matched Katya’s enthusiasm.

There was a waiter loitering near them, perhaps unsure whether he should be taking orders this early into the event. Katya beamed at him, and he smiled back, before joining the two women.

“So, what happens here?”

Katya whispered to him like they were sharing in a secret. The waiter chuckled quietly, glancing around before leaning forwards conspiratorially.

“You get condescending advice from older couples, and we keep bringing you wine.”

Trixie groaned, while Katya rolled her eyes.

“Sounds _great_.”

She spoke to Trixie, but made sure the he could hear.

“We already paid for the food though.” Trixie pointed out, and the waiter chuckled.

“Guess we’ll stay then.”

He took a moment longer to chat with them before being called to the door, returning to a more formal demeanour.

Katya always had that effect on people.

“This might be a long night.”

“Yeah.”

*

Apparently Katya’s complaining about the event was unwarranted, because the older woman was loving it. As Trixie stared into the bottom of her wine glass, Katya was telling yet another story, holding the attention of the entire table.

They had been joined by a small group of hotel guests, comprising of two older American couples, very sweet and southern-sounding, along with a German couple about a decade older than Trixie.

Despite Trixie’s best efforts, they were all very interested in Trixie and Katya’s relationship. And Katya wasn’t even attempting to bend the truth, to warp it into a more favourable shape.

It was almost an impromptu therapy session, divulging all their secrets to their deeply invested would-be counsellors. It was difficult to hear a retelling of their story, particularly from Katya’s perspective. All her thoughts and kindnesses, punctuated by discussions about how other couples at the table had gone through ‘similar times’. The cooing and gasps from the other couples were an unwelcome backing track to a perspective Trixie had never expected to hear. It was hard to hear Katya’s anxieties laid out bare, as if Trixie herself wasn’t sitting beside her.

As the ending of their relationship got closer, Trixie felt conflicted all over again. The ending in Katya’s story was abrupt, unexplained, shocking. It came without motivation or clear definition. Trixie wasn’t vilified on purpose, but she couldn’t help thinking that without the context of their current situation, she’d hate the cow that broke Katya’s heart. The absolute bitch who ended things with no rhyme or reason, no consultation or attempt to rebuild. She’d found a broken window and bulldozed the whole house.

Worse still, Trixie knew all the details Katya had skipped over.

The times they’d forgotten dates, or been busy with work, or cried about bereavements and lost jobs and huge bills. The fights and the sex and the makeup sex after the fights. The romance was there, but none of the realism bridged the gaps between grand gestures. None of the things that made Trixie fall in love. The everyday kindnesses that Katya had offered. The times Trixie had looked after her, or met her after work with her favourite bakery goods and a bare face.

The movies they’d watched and enjoyed, rewatched and loved. Every song they’d danced to in the kitchen, every time Trixie made Katya a country music playlist that she listened to religiously without really liking. Every time Katya had proved herself true and loving and dedicated, and never demanded anything from Trixie in return.

That was filler for their main, tragic arc.

Some of the advice offered by other patrons was completely unhelpful. Or condescending. Trixie was pretty sure one of men as a huge homophobe. However, one of the grey-haired women took Trixie’s hand across the table, pulling her uncomfortably close to the rose-centrepiece.

“You seem very quiet, honey. Why don’t you tell us the rest?”

Trixie recoiled, firmly sitting back in her chair. Katya had stated the most barebones details or their breakup – not touching on Trixie’s still-mysterious motives.

“There’s nothing left to tell.”

“You’re here, though. That must mean something?” She pried, pushing her entrée aside to rest both elbows on the table.

Trixie chanced a look at Katya, seeing her wide eyed and paying close attention. Trixie opened her mouth, but she didn’t have anything to say. With a shake of her head, she snatched her phone from the table top.

“I’ll be right back.”

Trixie had to swerve a waitress carrying their mains to get to the bathrooms, purposely ignoring the looks of their dinner companions.

Locked in a bathroom stall, there was nothing to stop her freaking the fuck out. No other patrons to stare at or pleasant music. Just the overwhelming fear that she’d made a mistake. And now it was too late. And maybe this was a second chance that she’d blown by hating the whole experience. And as soon as she got home she’d be even more burnt out than before she’d left, and she’d still be alone without the holiday romance she’d dreamed of, and without Katya.

Also, how could she have caused Katya so much hurt? It sounded like even more pain than she Trixie had imagined. Despite brushing over post-breakup part of the story, it was evident Katya had been a _mess._ She’d heard rumors and whispers from mutual friends, but Trixie had always suspected they shielded her from the worst of it. Maybe they had told her and Trixie had blocked it out, focussed on her own pain. She’d felt like no one else could possibly feel as awful as she had, those first few days. Except maybe Katya had.

Trixie had wanted to believe Katya would be fine. That she’d maybe feel melancholy for a couple of days, then bounce all the way back like the independent, self-sustained woman Trixie liked to think of her as. The flashes heartbroken Katya she’d seen on this holiday contradicted what she’d hoped to see. Yet, it gave her hope. That maybe they were in the same boat. That the longing and missing Trixie had experience for Katya might be reciprocated.

That it might not be selfish to want Katya back, even after putting her through that much pain.

After potentially wasting six months of their short, finite lives, of their time together.

Trixie didn’t feel like crying. She felt like screaming. Or calling Kim, begging for her wisdom and counsel down the phone.

The sound of footsteps outside could have been anyone. Even so, Trixie knew who it was.

“Trixie, your food’s getting cold.”

Trixie took a deep breath, trying to stabilise her voice.

“Cool, thanks.”

There was no movement, no clicking of shoes on the tiled floor. With a pointed sigh, Trixie opened the door to join Katya. She was stood beside the sinks, watching Trixie’s face in the mirror.

It was weird, seeing the two of them in a reflection. They looked like they could be in a photo, one of the old ones hidden in a box at the bottom of Trixie’s closet. Maybe Katya was thinking something similar, the way she was gazing wistfully at the image of them.

“Did I cross a line?”

Trixie looked down, snapped out of the hold the mirror had on her. In real life, her shoes were slightly scuffed, struggling to grip on the bathroom floor.

“Just a bit.”

Katya didn’t laugh. This wasn’t Trixie’s usual funny sarcasm. This was _I’m too upset to talk to you seriously_ sarcasm.

Without an apology, Trixie left, leaving Katya behind on the walk back to their table.

It felt like every pair of eyes in the room were on here. She knew they couldn’t be, realistically. No one really cared about their fight. Nonetheless, she tried to walk evenly, head held high in direct opposition to how she felt.

Back at her seat, everyone was definitely staring at her. The table was all silence, staring. The kind of stares the kind that Trixie remembered from high school. Where someone’s been talking about you, then you walk into the room. She acknowledged them with a nod, focusing on her meal, barely flinching as Katya slumped down next to her.

The rest conversation was awkward. Talk to exotic holidays and ski resorts that Trixie didn’t have comments to make on. She knew she’d been weird and quiet. That these people must be wondering what Katya even saw in her.

It made her angry. Angry at Katya for putting her in that situation. Angry at these people for speculating and trying to help where she didn’t want any goddamn help. Angry at herself for being here, and for being unable to cope with Katya’s feelings, and for trying to dodge the consequences of her own actions. Still, being honest to these strangers and not with Trixie? That was out of line. And she was pretty sure Katya knew that.

“So, how are you enjoying your holiday, miss?”

One of the guests – the German man – was directing the question at Trixie. He seemed kindly enough, probably trying to engage her in the conversation, but she wasn’t in any mood to chat with these strangers anymore. Not now they knew every intimate detail of the relationship she’d ruined.

“It’s been alright.”

“The resort is nice, no?” He prompted, still smiling far too understandingly.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.”

 Trixie loathed to leave yet another event early, but she hated ruining the mood more. It would be better if she left.

“Y’know, I actually don’t feel well. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

Her food was only half-finished, but the shame of sitting there any longer was a far worse fate than going hungry.

Katya, however, objected. Because of course she did.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No. Stay.”

The sternness in her voice was enough to keep Katya in her chair, but Trixie couldn’t resist one last jab.

“You can chat to your new friends some more.”

“Trixie…”

This was a pattern she needed to break. But she marched out of the room, a presumably-embarrassed Katya in her wake.

The whole walk back to the room was a process of working through her emotions. By the restaurant door, it was humiliation that drove her forwards, followed by a stronger wave of shame as Trixie tried to navigate the semi-familiar corridors. Sadness set in at the lift, at the missed opportunity for a perfectly nice meal without Katya involving a bunch of willing spectators into their drama. She’d identified the feeling of regret when the elevator reached their floor.

Anger built as she headed towards the right door, key card in hand and shoes pinching her feet painfully, and as soon as the heavy wooden door was locked behind her, it washed away. Katya’s messily made bed, their stuff scattered everywhere, Trixie couldn’t grip on to the rage she’d felt leaving the meal.

There was another huge mirror in their room, and Trixie groaned at the sight of her smudged makeup. It had barely survived the evening, rubbed off in patches to show reddened looking skin. Her foundation color barely matched, too, after the slight tan and heavy freckles she’d developed. She wished she’d been more put together, a real adult, instead of how she felt now: less like a strong woman and more like a moody teenager playing dress up, painted in messy, shoplifted makeup and her mom’s clothes. Trixie vowed to herself that she’d burn this stupid dress the second she got back home. For the meantime, she settled for cramming it into the bottom of her suitcase.

*

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour before Katya joined her, skulking in with a tinfoil-covered plate of dessert in hand. She set it down silently beside Trixie, a peace offering, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Trixie didn’t touch it.

*

They went to bed early, and Katya slept fitfully the whole night. Trixie hadn’t remembered her being such a damn noisy sleeper. She tossed and turned, mumbling and causing the single bedframe to creak with every rearrangement of her blankets.

She was probably awake.

“Katya?”

This conversation could wait. They’d had six full months without it, surely they could go another night, wait until they’d both slept and cooled. But as a side light flipped on and Katya rolled in bed to face her, Trixie was glad they didn’t have to wait another second.

“Yeah, Trix?”

“Do you wanna talk about this?”

“I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any event: happens  
> Trixie, after panicking: YEET
> 
> This is late and not much happens, but its a catalyst for the next chapter! There should be some actual drama. mb
> 
> Thanks again to Lau motivating me to write and proofreading and also sending me really hot porn.
> 
> The plot has gone to hell a little, so any suggestions to make it less predictable are welcome!


	6. "Let Me Talk For A Minute"

“Do you wanna talk about this?” Katya had asked, still laying in her single bed.

“I really do.” 

Relief and fear hit Trixie in equal magnitude. The sole sidelight in the room cast long shadows that concealed Katya’s face, so Trixie could only imagine what would be going through her mind, playing out across her expressive features. She hoped it was some degree of solace, instead of the brewing apprehension Trixie felt.

“I’ll make us some tea.” the older woman offered, clambering out of the bed.

It was decaf tea, given the ridiculously late hour, brewed using the tiny kettle provided by the hotel. Trixie sat herself up in the bed, still buried to her armpits underneath the covers, accepting the hot drink from Katya with a quiet _thank you_. She so much gratitude for the perpetual openness in that woman’s heart, the woman who made them tea for comfort, just before Trixie begged for their relationship back. A woman who probably still blamed herself.

“Here, it’s cold.”

Trixie peeled back the duvet, letting Katya slide in beside her. The AC in the room was set ridiculously high, causing the temperature dropping even more at night. Trixie couldn’t figure out how to change it. Katya had never minded the cold, but she climbed into the bed anyway, covering herself with the bed sheets.

She muttered her thanks, resting her cup against her chest, and Trixie imagined it would be forming a huge red blotch on the skin above the line of her cleavage.

As Trixie was finding her words, Katya begun speaking.

“What I did tonight… it was out of line. I shouldn’t have spoken to all those people about us.” 

It was an admission. Facing the same direction, bodies parallel, separated by a layer of sheets and shame, as though they were sat a confessional booth. Trixie felt as though she should be the one asking for forgiveness. Nonetheless, she let Katya lighten her own burdens. 

“Yeah.” Trixie agreed. “Why did you do it?”

“I was mad. We never communicated after we broke up, you never knew…” She trailed off, gathering her thoughts before she continued. “I suppose… I wanted you to know how much I hurt, I guess."

Katya's words blew across the hot surface of her drink, barely moving her mouth as she answered. Trixie wondered if it was shame, or something else, that muted her hyper personality so much.

The break in Katya’s eloquence was a little startling, but Trixie knew she must be working hard to stave off her feelings, or calm down. It was late, and perhaps the words were leaving her. Nonetheless, Trixie wanted to talk about _everything_ right now. She didn’t care how poetic Katya’s words sounded.

“What you said at dinner… that was embarrassing. You embarrassed me in front of all those strangers.”

Trixie hated that sounded like a petulant child, talking about her emotions in plain English. She was close to tears. She hated now often she was close to tears talking to Katya since they’d broken up, that she struggled to catch her breath every time she talked about their relationship or sat on her bedroom floor, looking through photos. She still felt safe in front of Katya though. Like she could be honest.

“Yeah. I know.” Katya admitted.

She seemed regretful, ignoring Trixie’s searching looks in favor of frowning at the opposite wall, deep in thought.

“It’s just… I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Once the words were out, she turned abruptly to watch Trixie’s reaction for a sign of hurt. Trixie took a deep breath, trying to recall every detail of what Katya had said, in a new light, without the overtone of her anger. It did hurt. 

“Yeah.”

There was an opportunity. An opportunity to talk about what happened between them, but she let it pass. Trixie stared down at the sheets, wringing her hands underneath it, wondering what it would take to redeem herself. 

“I’m sorry for being so rude, this whole trip. I really hate myself for it… I… wish I was better.” She was near enough whispering but, over the quiet white noise of the air conditioner unit, she was certain Katya could hear her. “I’ve just been stressed.”

“It’s okay. That’s not what this is about.” Katya told her softly, putting her still-full cup aside.

“Yeah.”

“I… just… I need you to let me talk for a minute, no interruptions.”

Trixie nodded, quickly holding her own mug up to her lips to cover them. Katya smiled at her, even as she could see the way the younger girl’s eyes glinted with unshed tears. She'd always been the adult. The one who could wring rationality out of the most stupid argument. 

“I need to know, for my own sanity, why you broke up with me. I would take you back in an _instant_ , given the choice, but I understand if you don’t feel the same. I just… feel like there’s still something there, y’know?”

As Katya paused for breath, the emotion thick in her voice, Trixie found herself with a lot to say. But she stayed quiet. She let Katya say what she wanted to.

“I was out of line at dinner, but it was the only way I could get you to listen. I knew it was the wrong choice as it was making it, though. I’m sorry. If you can’t forgive me, I totally get it.”

Trixie tried to nod as empathically as she could without disrupting her tea, keeping her mouth firmly shut. Katya snorted a laugh.

“You can talk now.”

“Oh.”

With all Katya’s cards on the table, it was Trixie’s turn. She steeled herself. She took a deep breath, wracked her brains for the words she’d been mulling over for months. Words she’d considered texting, leaving in a voicemail, screaming at Katya’s apartment window in dramatic, movie-set rain. Finally, she choked them out.

“I made a mistake. I... really miss you.”

Katya reached a hand across to her bare arm, the coolness of the other woman’s fingers making Trixie shiver.

“That’s all you had to say, baby.”

The moment passed in silence, without a response aside from Trixie’s nervous smile. She wasn’t convinced this was a happy ending, that this could be the final, beautifully illustrated page of a fairytale. There was still far too much to discuss. Too much to go wrong and too much to argue over. Still, it seemed far more feasible, with Katya on her side.

“I just need to know what happened. That’s it.”

“What do you mean?”

Trixie couldn’t think of anything other than _having Katya back,_ gulping down her tea, feeling shell shocked. Katya looked sad, far more sad than Trixie felt.

“Why did we break up? It was so sudden, Trixie. You never told me why. We should have talked about it.”

Yeah. Trixie had been thinking about that.

“It’s so complicated. I don’t know where to start…” She trailed off, careful with her words. She knew Katya was hanging off her every word.

“Well what happened that morning?” The morning before she made Katya pack up her shit and leave, with absolutely no forewarning. Trixie steeled herself to unravel one of the biggest secrets, something she’d kept close to her chest for months, for fear Katya would find out.

“I… got a call from your parents.”

Katya opened her mouth in shock, but Trixie stopped her with a look.

"Your mom... she asked if we were still ' _seeing each other'_ like we're fucking children. Then when I said yeah... she just... I don't know... sounded really disappointed. She groaned as soon as she heard my voice on the phone."

Katya was frowning, maybe trying to remember her side of events.

"Why did she call _you_?"

"You weren't picking up your phone... They wanted to tell you they were in town… and there was a Russian opera thing…”

She couldn’t remember the precise details, as much as they’d haunted her. The memory of that shame, feeling that inferior, overshadowed the words Katya’s mom had told her down the phone. They were probably spoken with kindness, perhaps patronisingly, but they hurt far more than anything Svetlana could have screamed at her.

“She said I shouldn’t go, though. That I wouldn’t enjoy it. And… it’s so stupid… but I don’t belong with your family. I’m too thick for them. I don’t… read like you guys. I’m not sporty or clever, and I can’t…”

She broke off stuttering, trying to stop Katya interrupting with a held-up finger.

“… I can’t keep up with you. I feel _so_ inferior. I don’t want you to have to end up with me. Not when I’ll disappoint your parents. I know they don’t like me.”

Katya looked heartbroken, her brow furrowed.

“Trix… I don’t think it’s my parents that are the problem.” She told her gently, one hand reaching up to stroke her face.

How dare she? How dare she think she understood what it was like to be the wedge in that family relationship? To feel unwanted and rejected each holiday, hiding in the other room when Svetlana or her husband popped up on a video call?

"I'm not gonna be with someone who's family hate me. You've got great parents. I don't wanna get between that."

It was unspoken, that not everyone was so lucky. That Trixie wasn't that lucky. She didn't want two sets of parents who resented having to see her. And if the decision ever came up, Trixie worried that Katya wouldn't choose her. She wouldn't choose herself.

She knew how much pain it must be causing Katya, to finally understand why Trixie had made her choices. Maybe that's why they hadn't spoken in the first place: to spare Katya the pain of a difficult decision.

"I never went to meet them. They showed up at my apartment, but I wouldn't answer the door. I was _devastated_ , Trixie. Broken." Katya's voice was steady, analytical. Like she was finally distant from the situation. Trixie was glad she wasn't crying, because then both of them would end up crying.

"I left you like... 40 missed calls. That first weekend. It damn near killed me. I was so upset, and the only person I wanted for comfort was you."

"I'm sorry."

"It's a bit late for that, Trixie." 

Katya didn't snap. But from her tone, Trixie knew she was as close to that brink as she ever got. 

"You're right."

The silence was back. Thick and pregnant. There was so much they could say, so many questions. 

"We could call my parents?" Katya offered, completely sincere.

"What? Oh my god, no!"

Trixie wasn't about to put herself through that. To get another hit of the judgement and inadequacy she'd been riding since their last call.

"It might help. I want to talk to them anyway. My mom never mentioned that she'd... spoken to you that morning. She just said you were probably being... dramatic."

Maybe dramatic wasn't the word Svetlana had used in her subterfuge, but Trixie was sure she never wanted to know what Katya's mom had actually said about her. It probably wouldn't have translated kindly from Russian.

"It doesn't matter to me in the slightest what they think of you," Katya started. 

"It should, though. And it matters to me."

"Then I'll call them. I'll tell them that I'm not about to change my mind... just because they're snobs. Would that help?"

It absolutely wouldn't, Trixie told her. She could cope with Katya's parents thinking they shouldn't be together, it was more that Trixie believed them.

“A lot of the time… I felt like I didn't deserve you. I’m not thin enough. Or smart enough. I don’t look like all your friends, or your exes.” she admitted.

Katya's exes had been few and far between, essentially just people she slept with a while before she got bored. Still, Trixie knew about a few of them, a lot of them were still Katya's friends. They were all gorgeous.

“I wasn’t in love with my exes,” Katya admitted, “but I do love you. Still.”

“I love you too.” Trixie’s reply was desperately fast, accompanies with a tug on Katya’s arm so she could weave one hand of their fingers together. Katya stroked a thumb across the back of her hand, before breaking their contact to touch Trixie’s face again.

"If you still want to date me, then that's all I care about. You know I don't think those things about you."

Trixie nodded. She felt ashamed of her own shame. There was no way to escape it. She knew Katya couldn't fix all her problems. She couldn't make her love herself any more, couldn't remove years of insecurity. But loving Katya had helped.

“Just… You don’t get to make my choices for me. Decide what I’m thinking. Our relationship? That’s a two-way dialogue. You don’t get to tell me what’s best for me.” She stroked Trixie’s hair, trying to calm her even as her words hurt.  

“Can we start over?” she asked, brown eyes watching Katya’s.

The older woman sighed, lolling her head towards Trixie with a sad smile.

“I don’t want to.”

She continued quickly, turning completely in bed for face Trixie and reassure her.

“I love the memories of our relationship. I’d love to continue it, if that’s okay with you.”

Trixie bit her lower lip, holding back optimistic tears once again.

“God, Katya, of course it is.” She pulled the older woman into a hug, crushing her close, finally feeling the comfort she’d been craving for so long.

Katya reciprocated the hug, shaking from her own tears. Finally, Trixie felt right.

*

They exchanged words all night, reassurances and confessions that had been plaguing each of them for months.

_“I just felt like shit. Like, I didn’t deserve you.”_

_“Baby, I never wanted to leave you.” Katya had choked out, her response was instantaneous._

_"I've really missed talking to you."_

_"I missed you too. I kept nearly calling you."_

_"I'm sorry._ "

The night passed slowly, in innocent touches and getting reacquainted. Finally, their cups were empty and Trixie was moments from falling asleep.

“Can I sleep here? Is that too much?” Katya looked so worried, it was adorable.

“I don’t know, but I’d really like that.”

Katya smiled, moving so she was behind Trixie, barely six inches from spooning the larger girl. Just before she succumbed to sleep, Katya whispered in her ear:

“I’m really looking forward to rebuilding with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof!
> 
> short, cheesy and sweet. Just to put everyone out of their misery.
> 
> Happy valentine's day! It's all gonna be alright


	7. "Did You Miss This?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya makes a mistake, but Trixie makes her feel better about it.

Trixie slept like a baby that night, curled up in Katya’s arms. It hadn’t been intentional, both women had planned on leaving a healthy distance between them, like they were sharing a bed for the first time, or perhaps as friends. But muscle memory kicked in, and when Trixie woke up it was on top of the smaller woman, her face inches from Katya’s sleeping one.

As she rolled away to use the bathroom, Trixie could hardly believe her luck. That after everything, every fight and microaggression, Katya would still take her back. _Ask her_ to come back, even. It felt like destiny, or time correcting itself. Setting them back on the right path.

When she came back, face freshly washed and teeth quickly brushed, Katya was checking her phone.

“G’morning!” she didn’t even look up, until Trixie replied.

“Morning.”

Teeth and all, Katya’s lazy smile lit up the room. Trixie couldn’t help but laugh, at them, at herself, in relief, and Katya joined in. They’d probably wake up the neighbours, if it wasn’t already near midday, but Trixie couldn’t help it. She nearly fell back onto the mattress, laying in Katya’s embrace, being shaken side to side by the smaller woman. Her girlfriend? Were they girlfriends?

Nervously, she asked Katya.

“I hope so. If that’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

Katya’s morning breath was probably disgusting, but they had all the time in the world to share minty-fresh kisses. Trixie’s nod was probably obscured as she closed in on Katya, kissing her open-mouthed, feeling the both of them laughing. Her _girlfriend_. She was in bed with her girlfriend. Not some new woman she met online, or through a well-meaning but mis-informed friend. She was with _her_ girlfriend. Her Katya.

*

Recent revelations aside, Katya had no intention of pausing her holiday plans. She indulged in a couple more minutes in bed, before bouncing up, bundling together her now-dry swimsuit and coverup before claiming the bathroom.

“I wanna go surfing again!” she called through the doorway, before shutting it softly.

“Just to show off?” Trixie teased, clambering across the bed to reach her suitcase. That stupid single was still in the room, as if it didn’t know they’d moved beyond the need for it. Trixie hoped.

The door muffled Katya’s words, but Trixie could hear a resounding:

“ _Yep!_ ” through the flimsy wood.

*

Breakfast was, for once, _fun._

And Trixie was struck by how badly in love she was. As Katya chatted and laughed, swimsuit coverup sleeves trailing all over her plate, her stories wild and ridiculously loud in places, mouth stuffed half-full of pastries any time she wasn’t speaking, the strength of Trixie’s feelings hit her like a bus.

Because apparently her love hadn’t diminished. She’d found the heartache overtook it, was easier to focus on the pain than the longing she felt. But heartache and love were two sides of the same coin, and she couldn’t get rid of one without the other.

Now, looking at Katya’s face, making stupid comments just to get a laugh from Katya, she could feel how much that fire was still there. Maybe it had been a little smothered, but the night before was like fresh oxygen, and Trixie felt warmed. Katya had no intention of waiting for her food to settle before hitting the water, jumping to her feet the second Trixie was done eating.

“I’ll catch up.”

The receptionist had a curious look on her face, when Trixie asked for the spare bed to be removed from her room. Maybe she knew what had happened. Maybe she as figuring out if Trixie was a murderer. Maybe it was a mundane, everyday request. Nonetheless, Trixie was glad when she sent a porter up instantly. They could put that awkwardness behind them.

*

When Trixie stepped out onto the sand, Katya had found and claimed a pair of sun loungers, bouncing on her heels and waving frantically at Trixie when she spotted her. As Trixie walked over, she was grateful for the sunglasses hiding her eyes. _This_ is what she’d imagined. Hiding from the sun while Katya did some stupid extreme sport. Burning the soles of her feet on the beach but refusing to put shoes on, too enamoured with the feel of sand between her toes. Pairs of sun loungers pushed closer to each other and matching beach towels, ogling Katya’s abs and laughing at the men who tried to hit on them.

This was near-enough heaven.

Katya pecked a kiss onto her nose before she darted over to the board rentals, taking Trixie by surprise. It should be harder, to fall back into a rhythm they’d abandoned half a year ago. She shouldn’t remember Katya’s _everything_ as much as she did.

It didn’t escape Trixie’s notice that Katya was a little more apprehensive than she had been yesterday, standing at the water’s edge without an instructor. She hadn’t borrowed a wetsuit, and the cover up was draped across the lounger next to Trixie’s. Still, Katya wasn’t one to back away from a challenge. And she was a decent surfer.

From what Trixie could see in her body language, the water was cold. She remembered it being cold yesterday, in a wetsuit, but soon enough Katya was atop the board, skin warmed by the West Coast sunshine.

The waves were rougher today, but Katya knew just enough to still have fun. She waved at Trixie each time she resurfaced or managed to catch a wave for a couple of seconds. A lot of the time was spent floating on the board, in line with the other surfers occupying the water, catching her breath and trying to balance herself.

But then she’d get back into a paddle towards where the waves would break, drag herself to standing, and enjoy the rush for a second before she fell behind the wave, or was pulled off her board beneath it. Each time she went under, it seemed like longer. It was enough to make Trixie nervous, to force her to abandon her book to devote all her attention towards fretting over Katya. She was probably being stupid, but she kept an eye on the lifeguard tower. The lifeguards would lose attention for a while, chatting to each other or focussing on their radios, and Trixie wanted to scream at them. They probably knew what they were doing, maybe there were other lifeguards working or they kept half an eye on the swimmers, but Trixie couldn’t let herself relax.

Finally, Katya took a fall close to the shoreline, and she didn’t re-emerge. She watched the water for a painful few seconds, tempted to laugh at herself for being so paranoid, but when she didn’t see Katya’s mop of blonde hair being pushed out of her face, Trixie jumped to her feet.

She was torn between running straight for the water, and rushing to the lifeguard tower. Fortunately, there was a lifeguard on the beach nearby, so Trixie headed straight for her.

“My girlfriend!” she gasped, “she’s in there.”

The lifeguard was a short woman, stocky, built like a smaller version of Trixie herself. Nonetheless, she got to the water’s edge faster than Trixie could have hoped for, about to dive in when Katya finally resurfaced. Trixie pointed her out, but she swam out anyway, helping to drag Katya to the shore.

Both women were exhausted as they left the water, and Trixie had to help the lifeguard lay Katya on her side. She was still moving, thank god, and barely conscious. Trixie was about to demand CPR or something, but Katya just needed to catch her breath. As she started coughing up water, Trixie found her eyes streaming as much as her girlfriend’s.

“Thank you so much.” Trixie gasped, as the lifeguard experimentally patted Katya on the back as she drew deep, heaving breaths, shuddering with coughs. Katya nodded, unable to speak. Another lifeguard joined them, one from the tower who she had considered yelling at. As he brought Katya a bottle of water, Trixie was grateful she hadn’t gotten on his bad side.

One of the other surfers returned her board, offering a sympathetic smile, and Trixie held up a hand in thanks.

The three stood around her, as Katya coughed up seawater, finally recovered enough to breathe with relatively little noise. Once she’d sipped at her water and offered them a timid thanks – and a promise to be more careful – the lifeguards returned to their posts.

“Well that was fucking embarrassing.” Katya groaned, trudging back to their loungers beside Trixie. She walked with an indistinct limp, Trixie couldn’t quite tell where the pain was coming from, but she hung onto Trixie’s arms as they got closer.

She had to help Katya sit down, and the older woman gently pushed her away once she was securely on the sun lounger. Trixie almost laughed at how stubborn she was.

“Oh my god, Kat! You could have died!”

“Calm down, I would’ve been fine.” Katya was grimacing, like she didn’t quite believe herself. Trixie didn’t argue, just pulled a soaking-wet Katya into a hug.

*

For once, Katya knew when to stop.

She didn’t return to the water, and Trixie returned the surfboard for her (apparently Katya was too embarrassed, after ‘causing a scene’.) She couldn’t believe Katya had even considered going back in the water, unable to bend sideways and trying to hide the way she was gasping.

“Well, they won’t let me back here.” She’d joked, gulping down the smoothie Trixie had bought her.

“Probably for the best.” Trixie had replied, noncommittally.

Despite not drowning, apparently Katya had taken some fairly serious damage. As she warmed up, the pinkness of her skin left, but in some places it began to form bruises.

The side of her hip facing Trixie was quite viciously bruised, a deep purple spider’s web forming over the angry red left by an impact. There was cuts along her hands and forearms, left by the sea floor. Her ribs were bad too, apparently, from the way Katya winced as she moved. When Trixie convinced her to let her see, she shooed her away, making the younger woman even more worried. She wouldn’t be hiding it if it wasn’t bad.

“It’s just bruising,” she had reassured Trixie. “I’ve broken a rib before, it doesn’t feel like that.”

Trixie remembered the scar, the tiny incision just below her breast where they’d had to save her life after a bone chip pierced her lung, years before the two women had even met.

“Hm.”

*

The beach was nice, but there wasn’t much to do there. At least not for an in-pain and restless Katya. She insisted Trixie should ‘stay, relax, not move on her account’, but they barely lasted another five minutes. The pair stopped at the reception on the way back, the same long-suffering employee giving Trixie an entire first aid kid and an eye roll.

On their return, the bed was gone. Katya gave Trixie a grin when she noticed, and they were both grateful that Katya could manoeuvre the space a bit easier. Trixie lay out a towel on their bed, getting Katya to sit. It didn’t escape her notice how difficult it was for Katya to lower herself down gently.

“Can you take that off?”

Katya tried her best, but she struggled as she tried to strip off her cover-up. She’d insisted on wearing it to conceal the bruises a little on the walk back through the hotel, but it was awkward to get over her head. The pain looked bad. Trixie finally took pity and helped her, gently easing her out of the top.

“Thanks,” Katya smiled softly as Trixie folded the cover-up, laying it on the dresser.

The first aid kit wasn’t a huge help. There were bandages, cotton pads and plasters, but nothing that Trixie could use to cover the huge scratches on Katya’s sides. Still, she found some disinfectant for the cuts, and arnica for the bruises, and refused to let Katya apply them herself.

“Just let me do it.” She insisted, finally getting the smaller woman to _just sit still._

Trixie was surprised by how therapeutic she found it, to look after Katya. To touch her as gently as possible, making sure to leave a thick layer of cream protecting her damaged skin. The arnica was cold on her hands, and she tried to warm it a little before it hit the curves and planes of Katya’s body. Her skin was a little dry, from the salt and the days in the sun, and Trixie wondered if she should’ve tried to get the older woman to shower after she came out of the ocean. But they were on holiday and Katya was in pain, the sooner she got the bruising down, the better.

She gave Katya the weak painkillers they put in the first aid kit, and watched as she swallowed them down with even more water. Trixie didn’t have much method as she worked her way across the damaged areas of Katya’s body, alternating between disinfecting her abrasions and trying to ease the bruising. Katya seemed happy with the outcome, the feel of Trixie’s hands all across her skin, despite wincing when Trixie hit an especially sore spot. Katya lay back as Trixie attended to her ribs and slightly scratched breast and shoulder, the younger woman making an occasional sympathetic comment or apology.

“I was so worried.” She chastised, rotating Katya’s leg to get to the damage on her hip.

“I was a bit worried too.”

“Shut up.”

She got Katya to turn over, showing her the vicious purple bruises and fresh scratches all along her back that Trixie hadn’t had a proper look at yet. She tried to comfort Katya as the antiseptic stung, rubbing distractingly between her shoulder blades until the pain subsided and Katya stopped whimpering. Her back seemed less painful, and Trixie could lightly massage her tight muscles as she applied the cream. At first, Katya had made approving moans, but she gradually went quiet. When she stopped replying to Trixie’s comments, she realised that Katya had fallen asleep.

This woman was too much, so angelic in her sleep whilst her body looked black and blue. Tears finally left her eyes, and Trixie lay herself down alongside Katya. She could have lost Katya. After everything they’d been through. There was no urgency any more, and Trixie could finally process her feelings unobserved.

She felt grateful. She felt tired. She felt stupidly loved-up.

It was a contrast to the pure panic she’d felt on the beach. She hadn’t particularly processed it at the time, but in the moment, she had been so, ridiculously afraid. Afraid she’d lose Katya, after all they’d worked through and the time they’d waited. Afraid she’d miss out on the future she could finally indulge in fantasising about.

After a while of lying there, Trixie got worried. Had Katya hit her head? Why was she sleeping midday? What was happening?

Surely, she was just tired. Still, Trixie rubbed at her shoulders, now prickled with goosebumps from the cold AC, trying to gently wake up the older woman.

Katya smiled lazily as she came around, trying to reach up to brush her hands across Trixie’s waist.

“Sorry, I’m exhausted.”

“No worries, just checking you’re okay.”

“I am. I had a great nurse.” Katya moved a hand up for Trixie’s chin, making her blush.

“How do you feel?” she asked, hoping the painkillers might have done something.

“Like shit. But I’ll get better.”

Trixie smiled sadly, wishing their reunion might have gone a little better. Tending to injuries wasn’t really a ‘honeymoon phase’ activity. Still, they had time, and Trixie rolled onto her back, one of Katya’s hands still clasped to her chest over the bathing suit top.

*

They lay there until Katya tried to get onto her back again, getting uncomfortable having to twist her neck sideways. She groaned as she rolled over, having to lay on her painful hip, and Trixie jumped to her feet to help. When she finally got sat up, the older woman looked completely frustrated with herself.

“This sucks. I wanted to have sex tonight.” Katya whinged, making Trixie double over in laughter.

“We can still have sex, mama. Let’s just see how you’re feeling.” She reassured her, grinning. So predictable.

“I feel bad, though. You must be gagging for it.”

Trixie laughed again, at the seriousness in Katya’s voice. After a second, Katya laughed too.

“‘Gagging for it’? Really?”

“Yeah! You haven’t got off since we’ve been here!” Katya insisted, smiling up at the ceiling.

“You don’t know that!” Trixie was blushing again, indignant.

Katya gave her a knowing look.

“Have you got off since we’ve been here?”

The question was direct enough to make Trixie laugh, and then mutter out a ‘no’.

Katya looked sympathetic, maybe unreasonably so given her situation, and a bit thoughtful.

“Do it now.”

“What?”

Trixie knew exactly what she was asking, but she needed confirmation.

“Get yourself off now.”

One deep breath passed between them, before Trixie settled on her back, giving herself space to spread her thighs. She wanted to. She _really_ wanted to. Putting a show for Katya was so hot, the way Katya talked her up, made her feel wanted, made her wet and desperate. There was no doubt in Trixie’s mind she’d do it – get herself off in front of Katya whilst the other woman just watched. Her lower stomach felt tense with arousal, and Katya was giving her a look that suggested she _knew._

“How?” she whispered, hands lying awkwardly on her stomach and hip.

“However you want, baby.” Katya smiled, looking adoringly at her.

She knew her face must be outrageous, but Trixie was turned on beyond belief after such a dry spell, and at the knowledge Katya wanted to watch her. She’d missed the feeling. The intense arousal of having someone else there, watching her experience pleasure without even touching herself. She wanted Katya to tell her how. Tell her what to do.

Trixie whined, and Katya relented.

“Using your fingers. Or you can use my vibrator, if you want.”

“Fingers are fine,” Trixie choked out, suddenly nervous as she unbuttoned her shorts, slipping her fingers underneath the fabric of her panties. She reached her pubic mound, fingers brushing through the hair there.

“Take them off?” Katya asked, timid.

This part of their relationship wasn’t redefined yet, but Trixie assumed they were on the same page. Ready, but nervous, like it was their first time again. Once again, Trixie lamented that Katya couldn’t be more involved.

Trixie breathed out an ‘ _okay’_ as she slid the shorts down, lifting her hips to tug them over her ass. She could’ve sworn Katya was holding her breath as Trixie’s panties followed, and then her shirt and bra. Trixie was careful not to bump Katya’s body.  

This was a fantasy come to life. Trixie closed her eyes as her hands slid back down her body, fingers firm where they needed to be and gentler where they needed to be. The pattern was familiar, the feeling was nice, but knowing Katya was next to her felt like the greatest sensation in the world.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” Katya had teased, fingers lazy on her own stomach. “Can you rub your clit a little faster?”

Katya told her how fast to move. When to plunge a couple of fingers deep inside herself. When to pull her fingers up against her g-spot. Most importantly, the way she spoke was the hottest stimulation Trixie could imagine, her words the driving force between Trixie’s motions.

“You look so hot, Trix. Did you miss this?”

“God, you’re sexy. Don’t stop. Keep going, baby. That’s right. That’s so good. Keep going, for me.”

Katya’s voice crooned, the gravelly tone making Trixie pant as much as her own fingers were, deep inside her.

“Are you nearly there, baby? You look ready. Can you come for me, baby?”

Any time her eyes opened, her head rolled to the side, she was met with Katya’s intense stare. That green was the last thing Trixie saw before she came, both hands working hard between her legs, fingers sloppy with arousal and sweat, moans and wet sounds filling the room.

As her thighs shook, Katya wrapped her nearest hand around as much of Trixie’s nearest leg as she could hold, panting along with Trixie as she climaxed.

A moment’s recovery came and went, all under her girlfriend’s watchful, loving gaze. Trixie held her fingers in front of Katya’s open mouth, and the older woman craned her neck up to lick them clean, demanding the other hand before finally resting her head on Trixie’s sensitive bare breast. The younger woman groaned.

“Can I eat you out?”

Katya’s frustration seemed more painful than the physical injuries, and she whined out loud when Trixie asked her, all sleepy and sated. Trixie knew the pain would probably be too bad – especially with her injured hip – but she was still disappointed by Katya’s answer.

“I’d love that, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not really up for it. Sorry.”

Trixie hummed dozily, nodding and cuddling herself closer to Katya. She would’ve loved to wrap her whole body around the smaller woman, but she didn’t want to hurt her. She held Katya where she comfortably could, wishing she could hug her tightly. 

Next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real smut in the next chapter! It's also the last chapter, so last round of requests :)


	8. "Fuck, yes."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their holiday has to come to an end at some point, so Trixie and Katya make the most of it.

Something about having Katya injured next to her caused Trixie to wake up frequently throughout the night, drowsily checking in whilst Katya couldn’t sleep well. She’d read, or lay still, and insist she was sleeping even though she was always in bouts of wakefulness when Trixie checked on her.

Lazy making out punctuated Trixie’s sleep, after rolling closer to Katya and trying to be mindful of where her hands were. The purpose wasn’t explicitly sexual, more about getting reacquainted. Trixie loved to feel close to Katya, to feel how her muscles moved against Trixie’s. They both had morning breath and slightly dry mouths, but apparently Katya didn’t mind, and Trixie certainly didn’t. The kissing didn’t go anywhere, but they were fine with that. It was like a switch had slipped, physical intimacy was back on the table, and Trixie couldn’t believe how much she’d missed it.

Sunrise finally woke Trixie up, properly, and she rolled over to see Katya already awake and showered. She was wearing boxer shorts and a tank top, soft around her body and leaving lots of skin on show. As much as she usually found Katya’s body alluring, she couldn’t bring herself to get turned on today. The bruises had matured overnight, and although Katya insisted they didn’t hurt too badly, they were alarming blues and greens.

“Wanna have a lazy day?” she offered, and Katya’s face lit up, a ridiculously perfect smile spreading across her face. She knew Katya would never ask for a day off, but they could both use it.

“ _Yesss!_ ”

Katya was like an excited child, bouncing back into bed as enthusiastically as she could manage, trying not to wince. Strictly, their whole holiday had been a lazy day, but permission not to wring as much fun and excitement out of the day was still exciting.

They laid in bed until Trixie got hungry, noting the breakfast buffet was about to end, and she offered to go and get food for the both of them. Katya tried to object, but there was really no point: Trixie was already hunting out underwear and clothes. A few of the staff had shot daggers as Trixie left with two plates, piled high with every kind of breakfast food she could fit, but she was on cloud nine, and Trixie couldn’t care less.

*

Trixie dragged her to a nurse the next morning, much to Katya’s distain. Still, they were both relieved to hear nothing serious was wrong – in fact, she was basically fine. Just advised to stay off a surfboard for a bit. A day of Netflix, punctuated by lazy making out and snacks, had done Katya the world of good, and she insisted that the pain had completely subsided, even if her skin was still peppered with fading bruises.

It took a while for them to finally talk calmly about their separation. In vague terms, there had been discussions of how they’d spent their time, what they’d been up to professionally and socially, but finally – eating their second-to-last dinner in the resort – Katya brought it up.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna tell people,” she began, refusing to meet Trixie’s eyes. “I think everyone… wanted to hate you. Because I was so upset. I nearly lost my job, because I couldn’t be _present_ , y’know?”

“I’m so sorry.” Trixie offered, putting down her fork to reach out for Katya’s hand.

“It’s fine. I explained everything, and they mostly felt bad for me, I think.”

It was really, really shitty. But Trixie wasn’t sure what she could say to make things better. It was both in the past, and still hurting Katya, there wasn’t anything for Trixie left to do.

There was a horrible thought that kept coming back  to her, but Trixie couldn’t shake it. She knew Katya was rightfully proud of her sobriety, that she couldn’t afford much more damage to herself, and Trixie wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if their breakup had caused Katya to lose that battle, even just once.

“Did you drink?” 

Katya smiled down at the table, and Trixie was relieved. Maybe Trixie felt more proud than she had a right to be, considering her fault in all this, but she was happy nonetheless.

“Nope.”

“Thank god.”

Trixie squeezed Katya’s lean hand tighter, before they had to let go and finish their meals.

*

The conversation continued back to the hotel room, stupid little things that they’d missed out on sharing with each other. Why Katya had to change her car (“I didn’t realise the rattling noise was a problem. It’s been doing that for years, the mechanics should have noticed honestly.”), Trixie’s new favorite open mic night, new co-workers, and finally Katya’s mom’s new obsession with finding her a spouse.

“I do want to talk to my parents. I haven’t done it yet, because I didn’t want to be angry or to start anything while we’re here, or whatever. But you deserve some answers. I think we both do.”

Trixie was sat on the bed, unbuckling her shoes, whilst Katya paced – having kicked her own flip flops away.

“I should probably tell you, Bill died a few weeks after we broke up.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Katya gasped, reaching out to Trixie, sitting beside her on the soft mattress.

They’d been close childhood friends, more by circumstance than anything else. They were loners in high school

“I found out on Facebook, his mom made a post.”

Her voice sounded cold, she knew, as she tried to hold back tears. This was the first time she’d retold the story to anyone except Kim. But Katya had met Bill a couple of times, knew the full extent of how meaningful the friendship had been during a difficult patch of her life.

“I couldn’t go to the funeral.” She choked out, slouching in on herself as Katya tried hard to physically comfort her, rubbing her shoulder with one arm, and holding her clasped hands with her own free one.

“I’m so sorry.”

Bill had died in his sleep, from carbon monoxide poisoning in his crappy, poorly maintained flat. And Trixie had already been through it all: the anger at his negligent landlord, regret she hadn’t spoken to him more in his last few months, and acute loneliness at the lost of the one person left in her life who’d known her in her most vulnerable years.

The loneliness had only been exacerbated by Katya’s recent exile from Trixie’s life. It was selfish, she knew, but she desperately wanted her girlfriend in that moment.

Shock from Bill’s death at opened Trixie’s eyes, scared the fuck out of her, and made her value her friends so much more. It taught her that life was far more finite than she’d ever considered, that death wasn’t just in the abstract. It taught her to hold Katya tight.

“Kat, we’ve wasted so much time.”

Tears ached in her eyes, and Trixie’s lip shook as Katya pulled her close, tried to cover the larger woman’s entire body with her own.

“I know, baby.”

Trixie’s hands grappled for the sections of Katya she could grab, clenching her hands painfully tight. Throat closed up with tears, she found herself unable to speak.

*

The night passed in cuddles, in comforting each other and in Katya taking breaks to complain about her parents, trying to process her feelings out loud. She couldn’t understand how her mother could care for her so much, and then endeavour to lie and make her miserable by driving a wedge in their relationship. _It doesn’t matter_ , Trixie insisted. _Your mom probably did what she thought was best_. Trixie didn’t believe it, but she wouldn’t use her influence to instigate anything against Svetlana. She changed the subject instead.

“I’ve got a weird confession,” Trixie told her, one hand wrapped around her drink. It was non-alcoholic, fruity pink in contrast to the orange of Katya’s juice. As it turned out, the pool bar did really good smoothies and mocktails, and there was plenty of space for them to lay out, legs dangling in the water.

“Shoot.”

“You left some stuff at my apartment, and I kept all of it.”

“Really?” Katya gawked, “How much _stuff?_ ”

Trixie hid half her face behind a palm, overacting to hide her very-real shame.

“Quite a lot… like, toothbrushes. Your hairbrush…” she paused, taking in Katya’s smile. “… panties.”

The volume of Katya’s cackling turned a few heads on the otherwise tranquil poolside, an older couple near them smiling. Trixie thought she might recognise them from dinner, the night they’d fought. Trixie’s cheeks burned red, even as she laughed along with Katya.

“It’s not funny! I was… I couldn’t throw them away…”

Her words sounded weak, and Katya knew it to  o, laughing even more.

“Sure, Trixie.”

The younger woman was about to close herself off, shrink away in shame, when Katya confessed:

“To be fair, I still have your purple bra.”

“Wait, the flowery one? I missed that one, you bitch!” Trixie lightly slapped her arm, pretending to chastise her. She was mostly just touched Katya hadn’t thrown everything of hers away. Trixie might’ve done, in the same situation.

The air went silent for a moment, setting a more sombre tone. Trixie was used to Katya’s ‘ _yes, and’_ responses, and it was a startling change in conversation.

“I slept with it for, like, two months.”

Trixie opened her mouth, then closed it again, squinting at Katya in the sunlight. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and Trixie wasn’t sure she wanted to see Katya’s expression anyway. Eventually, when the silence was getting too heavy, Katya perked up, apparently realising something.

“Wait, were the panties… unwashed?”

“It’d be weirder if I’d washed them!” Trixie insisted, already smiling as she anticipated Katya’s snort of laughter.

*

Their second-to-last morning at the hotel, Trixie woke up early. They had one last day away from everything, one last day of fancy meals and of no deadlines. She subtly shook her girlfriend awake, and Katya rolled over in bed, face close enough to the side of Trixie’s boob to make them both laugh. When Trixie calmed down she turned to face Katya, feeling breath on her skin.

“G’morning.”

“’Morning. How you feeling?” Trixie traced hands over her bruises, encouraged that Katya didn’t seem to notice her soft touch.

“Pretty good, baby girl.”

Katya went in for a kiss, following Trixie’s lips even as she recoiled from her.

“Your breath doesn’t smell so great.” She laughed, making Katya finally give up and rest her forehead on Trixie’s tank-top-covered cleavage.

“Do I have to get up and brush my teeth?” she groaned, clinging around Trixie’s waist, grasping the fat there as she whined.

“Yep.”

“Can I kiss you then?”

As Trixie nodded, Katya was already out of the bed, leaving her to traipse into the en suite after her.

Katya brushed her teeth quickly, already spitting into the sink and washing out her mouth whilst Trixie took her time, washing her teeth and fixing her hair, as Katya watched in the mirror. She started to brush her teeth, watching as the other woman got closer behind her.

“Did you think about me, these last few months?” Katya whispered, directly in her ear.

Trixie spat and put her toothbrush down, moaning as hands snaked under her tank top, cold against her warm belly, but still making her skin prickle with heat.

“Of course I did.” Trixie answered, staring Katya down in the mirror.

She was reminded of their night in the restaurant bathroom, overthinking as they gazed into a mirror. And also of a fantasy she’d had in this particular bathroom, as she was reclining in the bath, picturing herself on this exact sink, with Katya’s hands and mouth on her. Today wasn’t the day for it, but the memory still made her smile. Now, Katya would probably fulfil whatever fantasy scenario she wanted, if she only asked.

“All the time?”

Trixie nodded a _yes_ , smirking at Katya.

“Even when you were using that pretty purple vibe?”

“Especially then.”

_“Jesus, Trixie.”_ Katya muttered under here breath, making the younger woman giggle.

She _loved_ to hear Katya talk dirty, then wind her up by replying in kind. She wasn’t sure who dragged who back to bed, but neither of them had any complaints, sinking into the centre of the soft mattress Katya’s hands under her shirt and hers wrapped around Katya’s toned thighs.

“You want it, baby?”

Their mouths finally connected, lips hard and soft all at once. Trixie tried her best to nod, breaking their kiss for only a second before seeking Katya out again. There were hands under her shirt, rubbing at the stretch marks where her bra strap would be, palming at the curve of her breast. One hand snaked down Trixie’s sleep shorts, cupping her, and Trixie struggled to remove Katya’s clothes.

 Katya laughed at the way Trixie fumbled, how she was clearly trying not to be distracted by how close Katya’s fingers were to the hood of her clit. Someone else’s hands on her felt intense, so different to the familiarity of her own fingers, late at night, hoping her neighbours couldn’t hear. But this was Katya’s fingers, touching her with enough familiarity to probably compete with her own. She knew Katya was holding off, teasing her. No one knew how to wind her up like Katya.

When Katya needed a break, she moved back from her, enough distance between their faces for Trixie’s eyes to focus on her flushed face. Their bodies were still alongside each other, Katya’s short blonde hair a mess across her face, choppy and unbrushed.

Trixie was staring, glassy eyed, and it make Katya giggle.

“You alright there?”

“Yeah…” Trixie replied breathlessly. “I just, I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

She reached up to move Katya’s hair out of her face, tucking it behind the older woman’s ears as best as she could.

“Yeah?” Katya laughed, gently guiding Trixie onto her back.

Both of them were still fully dressed in their pyjamas, despite Trixie’s best efforts to strip of Katya’s shorts, but Trixie could feel how wet she was, pussy clenching in desperation. Katya bent one of her legs forwards, so her hard thigh was sandwiched between Trixie’s own. As Katya retracted her hand, using it to trace the waistband of Trixie’s sleep shorts, the younger woman groaned, rocking her hips against Katya’s thigh, desperate for friction. She burrowed her face into Katya’s chest, whining as she sought out the hardest part of Katya’s leg to rut against.

Katya laughed, holding the back of her head to her breasts with the hand not buried in Trixie’s pants.

“Shut up!” Trixie smiled, before groaning as Katya moved away.

*

It was tribute to Katya’s thoughtfulness that she asked before taking off every piece of Trixie’s clothing, checking she was warm and comfortable.

“Okay?” Katya checked, hands resting on Trixie’s hips as she leant above her.

Only a little of Katya’s weight was on Trixie, her toned body still clothed whilst Trixie was totally naked. When Trixie tugged at her shirt, Katya seemed to realise the inequality. Trixie helped her unclothe, settling her back ontop of her and trying to settle her hipbones comfortably onto Trixie’s wider loins.

“How long have you wanted this, huh? The whole holiday?”

It was endearing, how much Katya needed to know Trixie _wanted_ her. Had wanted her.

“Since the first night.” Trixie was short of breath, from the weight of Katya above her as much as from her arousal.

“Good.”

Finally, _finally_ , Katya’s fingers found Trixie’s pussy. She didn’t know if either of them had lube, but Trixie was wet enough that it didn’t matter. She pulled Katya’s head closer, kissing her deeply again while Katya dragged the pads of her fingers over Trixie’s pussy lip.

 “You’ve been winding me up all holiday? You know that?”

She moved again, giving herself room to slide her slim fingers inside Trixie, mouth slipped down to her left breast. Trixie could feel the weight of her head on the side of her boob, the hotness of her breath and the intensity of Katya’s stare.

Two of Katya’s fingers were up to the knuckle, stroking hard at the inside of her pussy, the sensation made even more intense by the weight of the hand pressing just above her pubic bone. It was amazing how Katya knew her every sweet spot, remembered exactly what got Trixie closer. Even in her words.

“Were you doing it on purpose? Looking that good? Teasing me?”

Trixie gasped, screwing her eyes shut.

“No, I swear.”

This was their game, when they were in the mood. Trixie pinned down, vulnerable under the smaller woman, not having to think about anything but her own reactions, about Katya’s moans and the lust in her eyes. There was love there, too. A suggestion that she felt everything Trixie felt, compassion beyond what she felt for anyone else on earth.

She knew Katya loved this, too. When Trixie yielded control, gave over her hard-won trust, barely able to form a sentence while Katya took her apart however she wanted. Katya was always newly confident, particularly mushy and in love, after she took control. Trixie never saw a downside, particularly when she could lay back and enjoy the feeling of Katya’s dexterous hands on her, inside her, her breath ghosting over one hard nipple.

“You know you were bad, Trixie.” She teased, and Trixie restrained a whine, only encouraging Katya.

“Were you jealous? Did you think that lifeguard was ‘gonna make me feel good? Stretch me out on his dick? Did you think he could make me moan? Make me cry?”

Trixie choked on her own moan, gasping at the force which Katya used add her third finger, enough to shunt her up the bed.

It was rough. Often, when they had sex, it was gentle and loving, with the sole intention of being close and feeling good. Katya seemed to get off on Trixie’s pleasure, on slowly working her up with tenderness and unhurried calm. She was intimately familiar with every reaction she could get out of Trixie, both with her words and her touch, striving to find new ways to turn her own.

“Did you realise I was trying to get you hot in that yoga class? Trying to distract you from all the gorgeous women staring at your ass in those tight pants?”

Trixie whined out Katya’s name, breathy and not loud enough to interrupt. A third finger stretched her open, a thumb resting on her clit, pressing harder and softer in an infuriating non-pattern.

“Fuck me, Kat.”

Finally Katya smiled against her breast, white teeth touching the skin as she pressed her face closer. Trixie thought she heard a giggle, before Katya looked up at her, pupils dilated as if it wasn’t mid-morning.

“Do you need it? Do you want my mouth?”

“ _Yes, mama_.” As she worked her way down Trixie’s body, teeth and fingers digging in to soft, plump skin, Trixie’s anticipation only built. “Oh god, Kat.”

One hand still partially inside of her, Katya’s tongue worked slowly, purposefully, easily finding friction across her clit. Katya moaned like she was the one being fucked, her dry hand wrapped around Trixie’s wrist, their touch hot and grounding even as Trixie found herself unable to focus on anything but the heat of her cunt.

Trixie came with soft moans of _Kayta, mama, oh god._ It was a slow build up, a long, lazy climax that Katya was with her the whole way through, with kitten licks and barely-moving thrusts of her fingers.

When her eyes opened, they were pricked with tears, from happiness and ecstasy and gratitude. The ceiling came into focus slowly, more focused on her sensitive pussy and Katya’s breath on it, the fingers inside of her and the knuckles pressed up against her swollen lips.

“Are you crying?” Katya whispered, tongue between her lips as she breathed out a single laugh.

“Shut up…” Trixie mumbled, bringing her arms up to messily cover her face, moving around her mess of hair.

Despite her complaints, she still embraced Katya once she crawled up to kiss her, tasting herself in Katya’s spit as they made out. One hand snaked between Katya’s spread legs, slipping in the wet arousal between Katya’s lips. The smaller woman groaned, twisting her hips to give Trixie better access, eventually allowing herself to be rolled onto her back on the mattress.

“Want me to eat you out?”

Katya nodded furiously, insisting on another short kiss before letting Trixie reciprocate, far more sloppy and just as appreciated.

*

A few hours later Trixie woke up with a moan in her throat, mouth dry and pussy wet and aching. Her thighs were held apart by Katya’s biceps, her fingers occupied kneading her thighs. It was midday, but the curtains kept most of the heat out, making it just warm enough for them to both lie on top of the covers naked.

Whatever Katya replied with was obscured, her tongue occupied playing with Trixie’s pussy, nose pressed into her pubic hair as she avoided Trixie’s clit. A hand held her head down, refused to let her speak as Trixie tried to tilt her hips, getting the pressure closer to where she needed it.

“You finally woke up.” She smirked, and Trixie groaned at the way Katya’s mouth stretched against her lips. “You were moaning in your sleep.”

“Ugh, god.”

Suddenly, Katya recoiled, staring up at Trixie from between her legs. She was laid out on the bed, back curved just above her ass, hair wild and mouth glistening with _Trixie_.

“Is this okay?”

Trixie’s _‘fuck, yes’_ might have been because of Katya’s tongue, but her jolting, shuddering nod was clear consent. Her heart almost melted at Katya’s thoughtfulness, her concern.

They made it their mission to avoid leaving the room all day, lounging and relaxing and sharing a shower, only finally getting dressed to go out for one last ‘fancy dinner’.

Their final meal at the hotel was bittersweet, filled with talk of how they’d reconcile their lives to fit together again, filled with promises and with enough cutesy, third-date flirting to get dirty looks from other patrons.

In many ways, Trixie thought it was too soon. Too easy. She wanted to fight for Katya, felt she hadn’t done her fair share of begging and crying. It would be weird, to go back to her everyday life with Katya melted back in again. But with Katya’s face across from hers, tanned, crinkled with laugh lines that Trixie knew she must be partly responsible for, it just felt like hitting unpause on her whole life.

They left the hotel the next morning with bags hastily packed and plans to drive the scenic route back to L.A., Trixie’s music blasting through the radio, and to take a detour to Katya’s parents’ house.

And they’d leave that house hand in hand, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bitch over, yeet.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck with this fic, for all your comments and for reading as I posted. It's been really fun to get feedback and suggestions as I write!
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta, @fookoff on tumblr, who's pretty much the reason anything ever got finished. I'll treasure the screaming comments on our 50 page Google Doc forever.
> 
> I'm @2atoms on tumblr, if you want to come scream at me, or keep updated with the next stuff I'm writing :)


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